


Do No Harm, To Protect And Serve

by AnimagusFireblade, Elias319



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Agent Sharpe, Ava is an FBI Agent, Canon Death, Drinking, Drug Addiction, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Getting Back Together, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Humor, Injury Recovery, Mental Health Issues, Military Backstory, Minor Character Deaths, Minor Injuries, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe-centric, Sara goes to therapy, Sara is emotionally constipated, Sarcasm, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Smut, Training/Fighting, Wit, doctor lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimagusFireblade/pseuds/AnimagusFireblade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elias319/pseuds/Elias319
Summary: Back from war, Captain Sara Lance of the US Army Corps, struggles to adapt to civilian life after a harrowing experience overseas. She returns to her medical career at the Chicago General Hospital as an accomplished Trauma Surgeon, but on her first day FBI Agent Ava Sharpe lands on her operating table, crashing back in her life. Now, Ava will push Sara into a future she didn't think could happen. One where healing and growth are possible. But life is never that simple. The two must hold firm together or risk being lost, especially now that they must go toe-to-toe with a new player in Chicago’s criminal underworld.*We post warning tags in the notes of each chapter.





	1. (Not) Bulletproof by Godsmack

**Author's Note:**

> We are both new to writing. Animagus has done a few oneshots and this is my first fic altogether, so literally any feedback is appreciated. I just started college and Animagus has a very demanding job, but we'll try to post once a week and we already have about 45 pages (20k words) written already.
> 
> -Elias319
> 
> Also, song references in the titles (and any mention of music anywhere) is all me. So if you hate the songs, yell at me first lol
> 
> We will always post warnings here. First chapter has surgery, blood, and a gunshot injury.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara's first day back to work as a surgeon. Should be an easy-breezy day. But life has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for betaing!  
@starling83  
@4alarmfirecracker  
@just93percentstardust

CHAPTER 1

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Sara’s hand shoots out from under her sheets, fumbling to silence the unwelcome interruption of her already inadequate sleep. After a few tries, she finally manages to find her target. With the alarm quiet once more, the short blonde burrows back into her warm bed.

“LANCE! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!” She groans at her roommate’s demand. She rolls over and crushes her pillow over her ear. She hears the doorknob turn, and a dull thud follows.

“I swear, Sara, I will drag you out of that bed. You can’t hide in here anymore!” Knowing how persistent her roommate is, she slowly removes the pillow from her head and blearily opens her eyes to see a figure staring down at her with her arms crossed. Her long dark hair is pulled back from her face in a ponytail, and she is wearing a white, long sleeved shirt with jeans and white tennis shoes. ‘I’d like to see her try,’ she thinks, smirking at the thought as she observes her small annoying friend.

“It’s your first day back. Do not make both of us late. Get up!” The dark-haired woman briskly walks over to her dresser and pulls open a drawer, rummaging around and moving on to the next until she collects all of her findings. Sara doesn’t even have time to fully wake up before she gets smacked with a bunch of fabric. She peels it off her face, noticing the last object was a lacy pink thong.

“I don’t think pink is really my color, Z.” Sara knows for a fact that those are not hers. Now, who they belonged to would be from a long list of random hook-ups and one-night stands.

Z, short for Zari, blushes as the short blonde raises it with a questioning look. “Well, if you didn’t just throw all of your underwear in a ball together, then maybe I wouldn’t have grabbed those by accident!” Sara’s grin grows as she sees her friend getting flustered, shaking her head in fond exasperation, and heading for the door. “Five minutes, Sara, or I will pour the coffee down the drain and you can drink that hospital crap.” The thong flies through the air, missing Zari by inches in her retreat.

She groans and rubs the sleep from her eyes, wincing as the pressure agitates her left hand. Sighing, she holds it up and flexes it, remembering her doctor’s words.

_She waited on the exam table, staring out the window at the distant glistening waters of the Hudson River, which served as a distraction from her rising panic. For anyone else, the quaint room with blue walls and framed children’s drawings would be pleasant, but to her the room was tiny and suffocating. She could barely think. But she knew she needed to be here. It was her first stop back in the States, and her medical transport wanted her to get checked out by an orthopedic physician. She continued to stare out the window, but she inevitably began to lose control of her breathing. ‘Fuck,’ she thought as she closed her eyes, squeezing her hands tightly. Just as her breathing began to completely spiral out of control, the doctor entered the room. Her doctor’s fortunate timing provided an anchor, and she managed to open her eyes._

_“Hello, Ms. Lan— oh I guess I should say Dr. Lance. Or is it Captain Lance?” There was a pause as the doctor waited for a reply from her silent form, but apparently she took too long to compose herself, because the doctor simply went on to introduce herself, “I’m Doctor Young. Your chart says you suffered a crush injury to your left hand?” _

_She conceded a small nod of acknowledgment but didn’t look away from the window. She was listening, but talking seemed like a tremendous effort._

_“Based on Dr. Tomaz’s reports and the scans from earlier today, you are looking at a difficult and long recovery. We can perform surgery tomorrow for your broken metacarpals. Your second through fifth metacarpal has varying amounts of damage, and your second and third proximal have small fractures. The surgery will take some time, but we hope to keep it as minimally invasive as possible. The hand still has major swelling and bruising which adds a little more of a challenge. We will place rods…” She tried her best to listen but began zoning out around the ‘minimally invasive’ part until she had fully withdrawn into herself._

_She was a surgeon. She knew the odds. The way Zari looked at her in the Combat Support Hospital told her all she needed to know. Her medical career was shot. Done. Ealaa. She would be lucky to ever be able to use her hand for simple tasks, let alone hold and use a scalpel. Sara noticed that the doctor had stopped talking. Glancing back, she saw the doctor studying her. Her expression differed from what she was used to. This one didn’t have pity or sadness. The analytical eyes had the look of someone trying to figure out a puzzle, with the faint glimpse of hope sparkling in them._

Shaking away the memory, she leaves the warmth of her bed, quickly stripping down in her small bathroom. She avoids looking in the mirror as she quickly dons the white T-shirt and jeans Zari picked out for her and sweeps her hair into a ponytail. Against her word, Zari had left her signature Arabic coffee waiting for her on the countertop, the fresh, earthy aroma rejuvenating her for her shift. She pours it into a thermos and follows the sound of impatient keys jingling. Bulky bag over her shoulder and coffee in her right hand, she smiles at her roommate’s scowl.

She moved into Zari’s two-room apartment after living with Laurel had become suffocating. Her older sister had finally come to terms with the arrangement, only because Sara allowed Zari to help her where others couldn’t. They shared the small apartment, and she enjoyed the new-found privacy that wasn’t available while she was living with her overprotective sister. Zari, however, seemed to instinctively know when she needed help, a push, or to be left alone.

She climbs into the passenger seat of Zari’s red Honda Accord, shivering from the late fall weather. Zari nods to her, pulling out of the driveway and heads to Chicago General Hospital. Amaya had been working on getting Zari to try out her music, so when Zari turns on the radio, 50’s rockability floods the car and leaves Sara alone with her thoughts. There are lots of things that have occupied her mind lately, but as she rides to work, the only thing she can think about is her upcoming shift. She’s been cleared at all levels to return to the hospital, but her gut clenches at the thought of performing any surgeries. She lets out a big sigh and catches Zari’s worried glance.

“I’m fine, Z. Just first day jitters,” she reassures her friend. Zari nods but doesn’t respond. The car pulls into the parking lot, and they gather their things as they exit the vehicle. She stands still and stares at the building that already held so much of her life. She completed her residency here and made so many memories. She brushes off the uneasiness that settles over her. ‘Stop, it's fine. Carter isn’t here anymore, so just deal with it’ she mentally scolds herself. As she walks toward where Zari is waiting for her to follow, she plasters on a tight smile and enters the building.

Rip had assured her that the first day back would likely be uneventful with the well-equipped staff. He offered her the position of Chief Trauma Surgeon, like her former mentor once held. She immediately accepted; this was her opportunity to move forward with her life. Her doubts about taking the position quelled knowing that her group of attendings were hand picked by her predecessor, Dr. Carter Hall. All of them except Zari at least. ‘He would’ve loved Zari’, she muses.

They tread through the hospital until they reach the attending physician's lounge. It’s a huge step up from the residents and interns’ locker room with large cabinets instead of lockers, couches, a private bathroom, a fridge, and a microwave to heat up meals between surgeries. Her eyebrows shoot up at the sight. Zari sees her pause and rolls her eyes.

“Well if you hadn’t delayed your return, you could’ve enjoyed the luxuries sooner,” Zari quips. Sara huffs in response and pushes past her to a cabinet with her name on it. Her cabinet has dark blue scrubs in her size which she immediately pulls out to replace with her bag. Not caring who saw, the blonde strips off her pants to pull on the scrubs. When she finishes, she pulls the matching top over her white T-shirt. As she pulls the shirt into place, a dark blonde resident barrels into the door trying to catch their breath.

“Thank God! Doctor Lance! They said you haven't picked up your pager yet. You’re needed immediately for surgery.” The resident pants in between her words. Sara is stunned but manages to reply, “Dr. Tomaz is here. She is more than capable.” Her desperate eyes meet Zari’s and sees her understanding.

The resident shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Dr. Lance. I’m under strict instructions to bring you to the OR. Chief Hunter has requested you for this case. It's a VIP patient, and he said you have the expertise for this.” She sighs as she nods in response. “Zari?” The blonde sees her close the gap before her name was finished. Grabbing the bag from the cabinet, Zari nods at the resident to lead them to the Operating Room.

All three quickly walk down the halls and past patient rooms, weaving in and out of the stream of people. The resident, who introduces herself as Kara, repeats all of the facts from the patient’s file while they make their way to the OR. According to Kara, she is a young woman with two gunshot wounds and is in critical condition. She was shot from behind, the first bullet is dangerously close to her left kidney and bleeding profusely, and the second is somewhere in the sacrolumbar region. She sighs. Two gunshot wounds on her first day back was less than ideal. To make matters even worse, the patient has very little information in her medical records. Essentially, she would be going in blind. Her and Zari exchange glances as the small doctor smiles encouragingly back and she dons her scrub cap.

As soon as the three women step into the scrub room, Sara heads to the sink to disinfect her hands and arms. “Dr. Lance, I was supposed to be in on this surgery initially. If it's alright with you, I would still like to join in.” Kara looks at the doctor with a determined gaze. The blonde shrugs and nods. Nothing wrong with another set of hands, especially considering this is her first operation since her tour. As the resident starts to scrub her limbs next to her, Zari reaches into the bag she brought with her and pulls out a metal contraption. She drenches it with sanitizer solution in another bay, making sure to cover the entire thing.

Once she finishes, Zari turns to Sara, who is holding out her scarred hand. Together they get the brace prototype on and and adjust the fit so that the pressure plates are in the correct places. Testing the function, she opens and closes her fist, savoring the temporary restoration of her motor skills. The brace had been made specially for her, to compensate for the nerve damage in her hand so that she could continue her career as a surgeon. Sara nods to Zari in thanks, and she enters the OR with Kara.

Within moments, they are both dressed in surgical gowns and head gear. Before she knows it, she is standing over the patient with a scalpel in hand. Breathing deeply, she drags the knife over the injured area, and blood rushes to spill out. “Kara, retractor. Suction, lat pads now!” At her command, the actions are carried out. It only takes a few seconds before the pads are already soaked in a pint of blood, and judging by the sheer amount and the brightness of it, she knows a major artery has been damaged. The machines blare warnings that the health status of the patient is dropping rapidly. It takes a while to locate the issue with all the blood, but finally she is able to cauterize the artery with her thermal pen. The relief from managing to stop the bleeding is immense, and Sara moves to let the nurse wipe the sweat from her brow as the smell of iron penetrates her senses, replacing the sharpe scent of antiseptics.

The loud shrill of the machines are silent and break her focus. She snaps her gaze towards the monitors to gauge the patient’s status. She was stabilizing. Taking a deep breath, her eyes momentarily flicker over to the patients face only to freeze. The face seems hauntingly familiar, especially the nose. Her eyes widen, and she is hit with a wave of nausea as she realizes that she doesn’t just know this person, she had spent the best night of her life with her before the accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, we are sluts for feedback!


	2. Not All Surgeons Listen To Beethoven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara has a flashback to their first date during surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That ending on the first chapter, am I right?? This one will sooth your hearts a little from that.  
As always, thank you for reading and enjoy some fluff.
> 
> -Animagus
> 
> Warning: Mention of gunshot wound, blood, surgery, and a PG 13 scene.
> 
> Thank you for betaing!  
@starling83  
@4alarmfirecracker  
@just93percentstardust

Sara can not believe what she is seeing, but it is undeniable. Her patient is Ava Sharpe, the woman she kissed before her last deployment. The mysterious blonde-haired woman with dark blue-gray eyes that towered over her. The one that almost got her to stay…

_She checked herself out one more time in the bathroom mirror, tucking a loose hair behind her ear and pursing her lips. Laurel owed her big time for this. Her sister had set her up on another blind date. She remembered their discussion from this morning. _ _“Please, Sara, I swear I won’t do this again.” She glared at Laurel, who looked more than a little sheepish. “Okay so more like at least not for another year. But she’s a really great girl! It’s my co-worker’s sister.” Laurel’s concession caught her off guard, and the older Lance rolled her eyes. “I might be naive sometimes, but I’m not dumb, sis. I know all about your on again off crap with Nyssa.” At her confused look, Laurel conceded, “Dad can’t keep his mouth shut. Anyways, you are going on this date even if I have to drag you myself.”_

_She had grumbled but ultimately gave in to her sister’s demands. She always did, and so here she was at some fancy italian restaurant, all dolled up in a fancy knee length blue gown with her hair pinned up on one side to keep it out of her face. She didn’t normally mind dressing up and going out for a drink or dinner, despite greatly preferring a casual bar scene and a nice glass of scotch, but Laurel’s blind date track record was abysmal. These nights usually ended with her dumping a drink on a guy, having regrettable sex, or making up an excuse to leave quickly, depending on how handsy they got and what mood she was in._

_‘Well, at least I might get some eye candy for an hour before convincing Amaya to bail me out,’ she thought to herself. It took a lot of convincing to make Amaya call her with an emergency to allow her to escape these dates. She sighed and checked her make up one last time before leaving the bathroom to face the inevitable failure that was sure to come. She walked up to the host and gave her name to be seated._

_Laurel and her co-worker had taken care of everything from picking out the restaurant to the shoes on her feet. They wanted it to be perfect for their single sisters. She chuckled at the thought of them painstakingly picking all of this out. Hopefully they would stop interfering for both parties’ sakes._

_The host led her over to a table where her date was waiting. She was dressed in a long black dress with her blonde hair swept over her right shoulder. She stopped abruptly when her eyes drink in the sight before her, catching the familiar shape of her stuck up, stupid little nose. “Aw shit,” she muttered. “Agent Sharpe, what are you doing here?” _

_The agent narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “Why are you here, Dr. Lance?” She paused when she said the doctor’s name. “Wait— you’re Laurel Lance’s sister?!” A look of shock fell across her face. Sara rolled her eyes and pulled out her chair to drop into it. _

_“Let me guess, you are the great woman whose sister works with mine at the District Attorney’s office?” Sara huffed out a breath, “Figures that they would match up two people so opposite. Sorry to waste your time, Laurel has a poor track record for pairing me up on blind dates.”_

_Ava snorted, “Not as bad as Aly. I swear she can’t help herself and picks randos from her grocery store!” _

_The doctor chuckled as the waiter came to take their drink orders. “Double vodka martini, stirred not shaken.” Her eyes followed the waiter’s pen to make sure he wrote all of her drink down._

_“I’ll have the same.” Ava nodded to the waiter. He muttered something about rolls and left to put in their drink order. “So why stirred instead of shaken?” _

_Sara looked up, surprised by the question. “It dilutes the taste. Besides, I’m no lightweight.”_

_Ava stared at the doctor which caused Sara to fidget with the napkin. “Interesting.” _

_Sara met her eyes, “What is?” _

_“Oh, nothing,” the agent brushed the question away with a swish of her hand, “Tell me how work is going. It’s thankfully been a while since I’ve been in your trauma pit.” A teasing gleam shining in her eyes. _

_“Well, we did have a guy come in with a pencil stuck in his head today.” Sara began telling Ava about her day and other various cases that had baffled the doctors lately._

_Their date wasn’t as completely unpleasant as she had originally predicted. Ava held a conversation with her the entire time, keeping the topics on things that interested them both. They got bolder throughout their meal, slipping in the occasional flirty comment or joke to make each other laugh. When the check came, neither one of them wanted the charming night to end. Sara insisted on paying, claiming that the agent surpassed any blind date she had experienced before._

_After paying, the two walked out of the restaurant and walked around the side of the building toward the parking area. Before they got too far, she grabbed Ava’s hand and spun her around to face her. “Is it okay if I—“ Ava interrupted her question with a kiss. Sara’s hands intertwined with the agent’s hair, pulling her closer as she deepened the kiss. The doctor backed her date into the rough brick wall of the restaurant and traced her tongue across Ava’s bottom lip, requesting entrance. The agent opened her mouth with a moan as their tongues met. Ava’s smell was intoxicating, a mix of strawberries and perfume. They broke apart when their breathing came out in pants, sucking in much needed oxygen._

_“So… do you have a room around here?” Ava looked at Sara with heavy lidded eyes, face slightly flushed from the alcohol. _

_The doctor grinned, “Let’s go find out, shall we?” _

_They both giggled and walked hand in hand towards her apartment. She shared it with Laurel, but the Assistant DA was staying with a friend in hopes that the date would go well. Less than ten minutes later, they stumbled through the front door wrapped tight in an embrace. Coming up for air, Ava turned Sara around to grasp the dress zipper and pull it down slowly._

_Sara shivered when the air caressed her back and turned to face Ava as her dress descended to the floor. Left in her black lace bra and matching panties, she reached around Ava’s neck to pull her back in for a kiss. A faint beeping had her groaning against the agent’s lips. Ava moved away, eyebrows narrowing at the sound. _

_“Just ignore it,” Sara tried to return to where they left off, but the sound resumed and alerted the doctor of its importance._

_Sara sighed and walked over to the small pager. She cursed, wishing she had thought to drink more at dinner so she wouldn’t be able to go in._

_“I’m sorry, Ava. There’s an emergency, and the attending on call can’t make it.” She shot her an apologetic look. “Rain check?” _

_Ava nodded, “Go, it’s important.” _

_The agent leaned in to kiss her goodbye and headed for the door. As she left, her eyes met Sara’s once more, “Call me sometime and we will cash in this rain check.” She winked and closed the door behind her. _

_‘I’d be an idiot not to,’ Sara thought. She hurried to collect her clothes and change into something work appropriate. Within minutes, her face was clean of make-up and evidence of her magical night was all but erased. She left her apartment and hopped on her black Suzuki motorcycle, speeding over to the hospital. Nothing could ruin her high, and now she would get to extend it with a solo surgery that should be an easy win._

Her stare is interrupted by the sound of her name. “Doctor? Doctor Lance? We’re kinda in the middle of a major surgery here. You feeling okay?”

Sara’s brows narrow at Kara’s concern, and she forces herself to reassess the situation. “Uh— yeah, I’m good.” She turns to one of the nurses and nods toward her phone sitting on the table near the wall with the other phones. “Could you plug this in and get some music going? The screen should be unlocked.” The nurse takes her phone and Halls of Valhalla by Judas Priest fills the room. The nurses are startled for a few seconds. It isn’t uncommon for Surgeons to listen to metal during surgeries, but it is uncommon enough to shock and amuse people when it happens.

“Alright,” she sighed, “I’m good. Let's do this. Head sponge, please.” The nurse takes the head sponge and moves to soak up her sweat with a gauze pad, and barely wipes away her sweat before the machines blasts another round of beeps. Ava is crashing. It shouldn’t be happening, the heaviest of the bleeding is under control.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Quickly grasping the main bullet fragment, she removes it from the cavity and places it into an awaiting dish. She uses her fingers to feel for a bleed, clamping the last damaged blood vessel. She will cauterize it once she deals with the complication. The angle of the clamp greatly increases the visibility, and after a brief search she spots a smaller fragment lodged centimeters from her sciatic nerve. If the fragment migrated any further, Ava could be facing the excruciating pain of a pinched nerve, or even the loss of function to her legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a note below! Tell us what you think! Have a theory? Have a question? Please let us know!
> 
> Music: Halls of Valhalla by Judas Priest: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VddfDsrVdcs
> 
> We are aiming to post every Monday! Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	3. First Day Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara is trying to avoid damaging Ava's spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Please notice that our tags have changed! Some were added and others removed. We are still finishing the fic so more may be added later. This chapter is pretty short but still a good chapter. Hope you enjoy - Animagus
> 
> Warning: Surgery
> 
> Special thanks to @starling83

“Page Dr. Palmer, NOW!” One of the nurses scrambles over to the in-room phone to notify the head neurosurgeon, Dr. Ray Palmer. Sara tries to remain calm, especially since her patient would probably berate her for not maintaining it. ‘This is Ava, she would be calm. She would ask you for the facts and leave the emotions out of it. Nothing is wrong yet, Ray will fix this.’ She breathes deeper to ward off the negative thoughts.

After about ten minutes, Ray enters through the side door to the hall instead of the scrub room. He is tall and lanky with dark charcoal hair, his usual boyish charm gone as he assessed the situation in front of him. He grabs a mask and places it over his face. “Sara, tell me what you see.”

She swallows a few more breaths to gain her composure. “A small bullet fragment by the sciatic nerve. You need to remove it or she could suffer permanent damage.” 

Ray’s brows narrow, “Sara, you are there now. Use your light to survey the area and extract the fragment.” She begins to protest, but he holds up his hand to stop her. “You are capable. You can test the nerves with the electrical current tester. It will take me too long to get changed into my scrubs.” Sara stares blankly at him. The stakes are so high on this one. She can not take it if she loses another in this hospital. Not this soon. Not Ava.

“You can do this, Sara.” The blonde nods her thanks to Ray for the pep talk and reaches into the opening to grab the bullet with her forceps. Her brace hinders her movement as she goes deeper into the cavity, so she switches to a longer pair of forceps. Once the bullet is surrounded by the tool, she moves to retrieve it, clamping down on the bullet. A shockwave runs through her arm. Her forearm feels like it is on fire, and her fingers spasm randomly for just a split second before coming to a halt, the shock goes as fast as it had come.

Before she can even process what had happened, the monitors burst into a frenzy of noise. The bullet has been pushed closer to her patient’s spine. 

She freezes, her heart beat thumping impossibly fast in her ears. “Sara, keep going or it will get worse.” She doesn’t respond. The brace prototype had been working up until now. But now that it failed in this critical moment, how could she continue knowing that her hand could spasm at any second? Ray senses her hesitation and rushes to don his scrubs and scrub in, so he can take over. Before he can get out the scrub door and into a surgical gown, she retracts the forceps and holds up the bullet fragment for him to see. Apparently she had maintained her grip on the bullet. His eyes soften as he sees her returning awareness.

He stays focused.“Test nerve response.” The nurse adds a pulse of electricity to the nerve area. The monitors respond kindly, notifying them that Ava would not experience nerve damage from the bullet. ‘Thank God,’ Sara thought. She glances at her hand, hoping Ava will never know this pain.

“Kara, have you ever performed a subcuticular suture?” 

“Yes, I learned it from Dr. Danvers and Dr. Luthor.” Sara bites her lip as she contemplates.

“Alright, I’m going to cauterize the artery we clamped, and you can close everything up with that stitch.” She looks into the resident’s eyes, “Make sure you do your best work, this agent will need to get back in the field without complications.” Kara agrees, and they get to work on finishing up. Sara, satisfied with Kara’s stitch progress, walks toward the scrub room and yanks off her gown to stuff it in the trash. 

Her hand pain begins to flare up from the spasm, but she is determined to make it through her first day, so she pops a codeine and sets out to the on-call room. Hopefully the medication and a nap will be enough to manage the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! As always we love to see any comments, questions, or predictions! Thanks for reading!  
We try to update on Monday's!


	4. Dogs of War♭

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara successfully completed the surgery. Now she has to face more challenges with work and the everyday life she left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the late post! Crazy week! Hope you enjoy this chapter! We are finally moving past the surgery and into more about the life that Sara left behind for a year.
> 
> Warnings: Military Flashback with some intensity. Guns, bombs, injuries, minor character deaths.
> 
> -Animagus
> 
> Thank you @starling83 for betaing!

_ She braced herself as the vehicle ran over yet another divet in the dirt, jostling her fire team. When Oliver had assigned her to a joint military strike with her team and two other Afghanistan National Army fire teams on an opioid factory deep in Taliban territory, he had warned them that the trip would be dangerous. So far, it was just annoying. _

_ The roads were extremely underdeveloped, and every few minutes a pothole or a good sized rock would shake their convoy. She had also been placed on a team of the most broody people she had ever met. Slade, the fire team leader, was a dual Australian and American citizen with an eye-patch and an affinity for gallows humor and general pessimism. Shado, a tiny Asian girl with several marksman medals and an all-around bad-ass, hadn’t spoken a single word since they left base. And Mick… Well, he was honestly the worst of all of them. He was the team’s Grenadier and he was a giant. Standing at a little more than 6 feet tall and sporting massive muscles, Mick had grown up rough and didn’t get along with most people. But to her, he was family. _

_ Just as Slade opened his mouth, probably to crack another joke about how much this mission sucked, an earth-shattering boom overtook the squad and the convoy violently flipped through the air. She was thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, her head crashing against a hard surface. _

_ Her ears were ringing. It was the only thing she could hear, drowning out even her own heartbeat. Her vision blurred and got fuzzy around the edges for a few seconds as she got to her feet. The movement was short-lived as she doubled over and heaved violently. Distantly, she felt a wetness on her lower leg, but she had no time to think about what that meant. _

_ Short of breath, she made her way to the front of the convoy and took stock of their situation. Slade was behind the driver’s wheel, bleeding heavily from his head. She placed her two fingers on his pulse point to check for life. She shook her head to focus on the feeling of his pulse, but nothing came. He was dead. Frantically, she looked out the windshield. One convoy had been unaffected. Its occupants already took up defensive positions, firing their rifles towards the roadside. The other convoy was demolished, a large metal carcass and a raging fire in its place. _

_ In an ambush like this, the odds were slim. The Taliban chose their targets carefully and made sure to only attack if they were confident they could take the target. With each passing second, her chances of living another day dwindled. Readying her rifle, she turned to the back where Mick had been. He had already exited the vehicle and was throwing explosives out into the field. The side of the road was overrun with tall grass and visibility was less than ideal, so she followed his lead and waited. _

_ Several men jumped from their positions before a bang resounded throughout the battlefield, several of them struck down by shrapnel. Sara picked off the few that had escaped the blast radius with a few well-placed bursts from her assault rifle. Before she could even duck for cover, she felt bullets whizz past her, the Taliban returning fire. She turned towards Mick, but the world dangerously wobbled, fading in and out of view. She numbly registered massive amounts of blood spewing from his shoulder. Moving towards him, her leg got caught on something, causing her left leg to fold underneath herself. Weakly, she looked down to see what she had tripped on and why her leg felt strange. She regretted it instantly. _

_ At her feet, Shado lay limply in a pool of blood, her vest riddled with bullets, her eyes glazed over, devoid of life. Snagged by Shado’s body, her own leg failed to function. Her fatigues were torn to shreds on her lower left leg. The skin was burned in a few places, but the damage was nothing compared to the jagged scraps of metal embedded in her flesh. From the scraps of metal, rivers of blood steadily rolled towards the ground. _

_ ‘So that’s why my leg was wet,’ she thought dumbly. _

_ Her adrenaline was wearing off and she could feel the start of what was sure to be the blossoming of unbearable and agonizing pain. She was on the ground, helpless and a sitting duck about to be picked off by the enemy. Her head was pounding, thoughts coming out sluggish. She could hear the ambush party growing closer, even over the concussive ringing in her head. She glanced up to see the butt of a rifle speeding towards her face. Before she could even process this, she was struck with a sickening crack. A splitting pain pierced her skull, the darkness dragging her under. _

_ \-------- _

_ Her head and leg were throbbing as she came to. Her surroundings were pitch black, the silence unnerving. There was a cold draft coming from the right, causing a shiver to race up her spine. She couldn’t move her arms or legs for some reason. She slowly realized she was sitting in a metal chair, fully restrained. Testing the bonds, she knew there was no way to escape. _

_ Groaning in pain, she called out, “Anyone here?” Her throat was on fire, and her words came out hoarse. Thankfully, it had been enough to do the trick. _

_ Mick’s familiar grunt echoed through the room, and an unrecognizable voice followed. _

_ “Who are you?” _

_ The voice was deep and calm considering the circumstances. Almost neutral, indifferent. His accent was an odd mix of Middle Eastern and American, but it was unclear which accent was dominant. He sounded like a middle-aged man who clearly had some training under his belt, if his calm demeanor was anything to go by. _

_ “Captain Sara Lance, US Army. Who are you?” _

_ “Doctor Anthony Ivo, Afghanistan National Army.” _

Sara sucks in a quick breath and jerks awake. She feels a hand around her arm, and her head jerks around to quickly survey the room and gather her bearings. There is someone in full scrubs, towering over her with thick dark curls framing the intruder’s face. For a moment she panics, thinking a random resident had witnessed her struggling. Instead, her gaze meets the familiar dark brown eyes of Amaya, the tall woman staring down at her. 

“I was worried you weren’t going to wake up.” Amaya removes her hand, leaning back, so the blonde could sit up. The tall woman is an extremely calming person, and Sara’s panic immediately fades in her friend’s presence. She tries to rub the lingering sleep from her eyes. “How long was I out?” 

“About three hours according to Zari. That’s not nearly as long as you’ve avoided me.” Sara flinches at the comment, her expression twisting into remorse. 

“Amaya…”

“Seriously, Sara, not one phone call or text to say you are home and all right? Anything I know is from Zari or Laurel! And then I find out you came back to work today! From Ray of all people.” Amaya releases a breath. “I’m not the only one you hurt, Sara. He felt your absence as much or more than I did. You know how sensitive he can get.”

Sara continues to hang her head, avoiding direct eye contact. She waits for Amaya to say all of her grief, knowing she deserves every word. After her injury, she had avoided pretty much all of her friends and family. She talked to Laurel to keep her and her parents updated, but she stuck to Zari’s side before throwing herself into her recovery. Coming back home had been hard for her, facing her friends had seemed too daunting. 

She was normally the supportive person who helped her friends deal with life no matter what was going on in hers and couldn’t bear the idea of her loved ones seeing her struggle. The pain she carried had to be borne alone. She hadn’t wanted to burden them with her recovery, so she pushed her friends away until it finally caught up with her.

“I’m sorry, Amaya.” She pauses, gaining the courage to look her best friend in the eye. “I should’ve called. I should’ve done a lot of things differently. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry for that.” She takes a deep breath, “But I am here now, and I’m okay.”

Sara wonders if her apology will be enough for them to move forward. Amaya bites her lip, gauging the woman’s words. After a few more seconds, she wraps Sara in a tight hug. It takes a moment for her to register the action before she reaches up to reciprocate. She lets herself cling to Amaya a for a moment. She always gave the best hugs.

“Don’t do it again. Don’t block me out. And you need to apologize to Ray.” Sara nods, knowing there’s no compromising with her. Slowly, Amaya’s face breaks out into a grin. “God, I’ve missed you so much! There’s so much to tell you!”

Sara smiles back, but her face falls when she starts to remember why she was napping in an On Call Room.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, Amaya. I would love to catch up, but I have to go check on my patient.” 

Amaya raises one of her eyebrows. “You mean the same patient you almost slept with a year ago?” 

Sara blushes at the accusation but doesn’t comment. “I’ll see you later.” She rushes out of the room and heads towards Ava’s room. She passes a nurse coming out of it and asks her a few questions to gauge her status. The nurse confirms that she is still sedated, and her stats look promising.

After thanking the nurse, she walks in to see for herself. A woman, who is the mirror image of Ava, sits next to the bed. Dark gray blue eyes look up and meet her stare. This causes Sara to pause, but she’s trapped now like a deer in headlights with nowhere to go.

The woman wipes tears from her eyes and stands to greet Sara. She reaches out a hand. 

“You must be Dr. Lance. Sara, right? Laurel talks about you all the time.” They shake hands. “I’m Aly, Ava’s sister—twin sister.” She chuckles. “Sorry, the resemblance can be unnerving for some people.”

Sara is thankful her stare was interpreted as confusion from their similarities. “No, not at all. I’m glad you could come and see her. I wasn’t sure if someone would show up for her this time of day.” She smiles, hoping that the woman in front of her won’t take her visit as more than it is. Purely professional. Just a courtesy, nothing more.

Aly nods, but her stare lingers on her. “You look tired, Sara— um, compared to your pictures— the ones in Laurel’s office. She—she has a lot— of you— of everyone.” She shuts her mouth to try and stop her rapid thoughts from becoming words.

Aly could see it. The woman has been hardened from the time she spent overseas. Laurel had been upset when Sara had left on a whim, right when things had started with Ava. Then when she came back and pushed everyone away, Aly and Laurel had spent hours debating whether or not to tell Ava she was back. They had both agreed that the timing felt off, and it would be pointless since they didn’t know when or even if Sara would stop pushing people away.

‘Well, guess she’ll find out now.’ Aly thinks to herself. Nothing better than your sort-of-ex performing emergency surgery on you. ‘Yep, that’ll go over nicely.’

“I’m just gonna check her stats and some other things to make sure she’s doing alright.”

Aly’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Okay, well I do have to get back to the office. Laurel covered for me so I could be here. But Ava won’t wake up for hours, and I should be back tonight.” She walks past Sara, but turns to look back at her. “Good to finally meet you, Sara.”

Sara watched Aly leave, wondering how much of that date she and Laurel knew about. Shaking the thought away, she focuses on checking Ava for any complications. Her monitors look good, and there’s no problems with her IV. Satisfied, she moves to leave. Just as she starts to turn back to the door, she notices Ava’s eyes flutter open.

For the second time in less than an hour, Sara is pinned in place. Ava eventually notices the figure standing beside her bed, and she lets out a scratchy laugh.

“Oh, I mush be dreamin’ cause the las’ time I shaw you, you promished ta call. You never did.” Ava chuckles to herself which turns into a cough. “Good dream though. I missed your face.” She reaches for Sara’s hand to interlock their fingers together.

She sighs and just watches Sara’s expression morph into confusion. “God, I wash sho mad a’ you. I misshed your dumb jokes.” She smiles as her eyes start to blink and close. Her breathing shallows until she drifts off back to sleep.

She distantly registers that Ava is definitely high on pain medications, and she can probably leave. Ava won’t even remember. Instead she sits down in the chair, careful not to move her hand from Ava’s grip. She will never admit it to anyone, but she missed her too. Despite the walls she has built to keep everyone out, Ava Sharpe always held a soft spot in her heart. She stays there and rubs her thumb along the back of Ava’s hand.

Eventually, she looks up when she can feel herself being watched. Zari leans against the door frame with a cat-like grin. Sara quickly removes her hand and stands up. Zari chuckles at her actions and motions her to follow.

“Come on, Lance, time to go celebrate.” Sara follows her, excitement flowing through her at the thought of grabbing a drink at the Waverider.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Finally got some Ava interaction even though it wasn't much. Don't worry! That'll pick up after this chapter! And finally getting some insight into Sara's time over seas. As always, comments, questions, and predictions are highly encouraged! We love reading what y'all have to say (yes I'm Southern so I have to be reminded not to type that in the fic :'D)! -Animagus
> 
> We (try to) post on Monday's!


	5. I've Got Your Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self care is important. Someone should try telling that to Sara Lance. Thankfully, she has friends and family who help her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This chapter has a lot going on. We get to see some more interaction with other characters and finally some brief non-drugged Ava interaction! You definitely don't want to miss this ;) Have fun reading! ~ Animagus
> 
> Warnings: Physical therapy session, Nerve trauma pain, and one brief physical altercation
> 
> Thanks @starling83 for betaing!

“What the fuck, Z!” Zari pulls her car into a parking space outside of Sara’s physical therapy place. The blonde is livid. She thought Zari was bringing her out to get a drink.

“You know why we’re here, Lance. Last one and you’re done. Now get out.” Zari exits the car and stands in front of it holding Sara’s bulky bag on her shoulder, looking expectantly at Sara. Grumbling, she obeys and walks into the lobby. They are greeted by the receptionist and within a few minutes her physical therapist comes out.

“Hey guys!” Paul comes out to wave them on back. He is slightly taller than Sara with tan skin, short brown hair, and brown eyes. “How’s everything going, Sara?” 

She sighs, “Fine.”

Zari rolls her eyes. “She had a big surgery this morning, and she did great.” 

The blonde scoffs at her explanation. “It didn’t go flawlessly. The brace acted up and almost made me cost someone their ability to walk… and my medical license.” They enter a swanky exercise room with all sorts of various equipment. To Sara’s relief, they are the only ones here at this late hour.

“Well, Felicity is still working on a solution for your motor function. You could call her while you are here, so we are all on the same page,” Paul suggests. Paul Holt is married to Curtis, who is best friends and partners with Felicity. They are tech geniuses and are working on prototype nanotechnology, in the hopes that it will help people like Sara regain full function despite whatever injury they suffered from.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She mumbles to him.

They call Felicity and discuss some of the issues with the brace. She assures Sara that some minor adjustments can be made, and tells her about their progress with the research, prattling about the promising results. She and Curtis hope to have it operational and ready to test in a few weeks. It would involve an operation, but would have a short healing time if everything went smoothly.

Sara is a main shareholder of their new device, and happens to be their primary test subject. It took Sara’s signing bonus and then some to get the equipment needed to build a prototype. The current brace is large and bulky, but it had already done miracles. It has restored a great degree of motor function, limited spasms (until now), partially restored her ability to feel changes in temperature, and greatly reduced the pain. In short, it has not only significantly improved her quality of life, but it has also saved her medical career. 

Despite how impressive the brace has been, Felicity and Curtis still continue their research, adamant that they can do better. This new tech Felicity is telling her about now is nothing short of revolutionary. According to the Nerd Squad, as Sara calls them, it will be a fully functional exoskeleton that could be installed via surgery, and it will practically eliminate any joint instability she still had.

“Curtis says he is coming to see Paul, so he can take a look at your brace.” Felicity says with way too much enthusiasm for one person. 

“Thanks, Felicity.” Sara hangs up the phone before her friend can tell them more about the project.

She is grateful towards the geniuses for helping her out, but she can’t bear listening to the details. Both Curtis and Felicity are impressively awkward and more often than not, they end up blurting out things that can be really upsetting, in their scientific fervor.

Their habit of making insensitive outbursts combined with the fact that the severity of her case also played a role in them choosing her for their primary project, led to some pretty awkward comments. 

Paul claps his hands together. “Well, since that is settled, it's time I show you how to massage the scar tissue on your back.” Sara grits her teeth and takes a step back from the group, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. 

Sighing, Paul scrunches his eyebrows, trying to contain his frustration. “Sara, if you don’t do this, they _ will _ get stiffer. And there’s a specific period of time in which massage is effective in breaking down the scar tissue. You’ve put it off long enough. This is critical for preventing pain down the road.” Zari silently observes her friend, knowing that Sara’s fortress of steel is hunkering down, readying for a fight.

“Paul, why don't you show me how to do it? That way at least I’ll know if she changes her mind.” Paul nods at Zari’s suggestion, hoping that the blonde would reconsider.

“Okay, Sara can you at least lay down so I can show her? I won’t touch you, I just need to show her the proper hand placements.” The walls that Sara threw up recede slowly, and she moves to lay down on the table. She tries to get comfortable by laying her head over her crossed arms and closing her eyes, but even knowing she won’t be touched isn’t enough to completely put her at ease. As Paul explains what, where, and how to break down her scar tissue to Zari, Sara pretends to act uninterested.

After a while, a hand gently touches her shoulder. “Sara, you can get up now.” She looks up at Zari and sits up to slide off the table, finally able to relax. She hears the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and spots Curtis. The lean decathlete is wearing a dorky button-down shirt and skinny jeans, ever the nerd.

Paul grins ear to ear. “Hey babe, how are you?” He leans in to kiss his husband. When he pulls back, he adjusts his husband’s glasses and smooths his afro before turning back towards his clients. 

“Just coming to see my amazing husband.” Curtis flashes a grin at him before turning his focus to Sara. Curtis always has an unnecessarily upbeat personality just like Felicity, but Sara enjoys seeing them in small doses. They all bring a little light to her day.

“Can I see how the brace is fitting on your hand?” Sara nods and retrieves the brace from her bag that Zari remembered to bring in. ‘Thank God for Z… sometimes.’ Sara thinks to herself as she pulls the brace on. She returns to the group with her arm stretched out to give Curtis access to the brace. He tinkers with the bolts and clasps. The brace tightens almost painfully for a moment, and she winces before it returns to a tolerable pressure.

A few more turns and tugs on the bolts later, and the brace feels good. Better than good really, better than it did during surgery.

“Voila, that should reduce any irritation and keep it from hindering your movements.” Sara gives him a tentative smile in thanks. Curtis accepts it, knowing that asking for help is hard enough for Sara as of late.

“Well, ladies, if you two could excuse us, I am taking my man out on a date.” Paul grins as Curtis becomes flustered at his words. He drags his husband out the door, waving to the women. They both share an eye-roll and amused grins.

“Those two are so sickeningly cute.” Sara chuckles at Zari’s comment. 

“Yeah, they really are.”

\-----------

Her days at work are long and exhausting. It’s been a week since her first surgery. She is practically dragging her feet on her way to Zari’s car. She must have been paged a hundred times everyday. Even though her feet hurt, she welcomed the intense workload that kept her busy throughout her shifts. It had made it easier to avoid visiting Ava’s room. Ava had woken up sometime late the night of the surgery, and from what Sara could tell, she wasn’t pleased to find out that Sara had been her surgeon.

Trying to brush it off, she had stayed busy. So now, her body is screaming at her for it. Zari is waiting in the car ready to go when Sara plops down into the front seat. Her hand reaches for the dials, changing the rockability into heavy metal blaring from the speakers.

Zari raises her eyebrows. “Rough day?” Sara doesn’t respond. She stares out the window as the car pulls out of the parking lot in the direction of their apartment. When the car is parked, Sara bolts out and up to their second story apartment. Zari sighs and trudges up the stairs after her roommate. She enters and sees that Sara has retreated to her room. She rolls her eyes and begins to set up their couch.

“Sara, come out.” The blonde tries to ignore her roommate in hopes that she will go away. “You’re in pain. A blind person could see that!” Huffing, Sara rolls off her bed to pull open the door. Surprise colors Zari’s face. She thought it would take more to get Sara to come out.

“I know your back is hurting. Will you let me try the techniques that Paul showed me?” She had asked very softly, wanting to make it clear that Sara is in control here. But when she hesitates, Zari presses on. “It will help loosen your muscles up. If you absolutely hate it, I’ll stop.” She can practically see Sara thinking it through and realizing that the pain is too overwhelming, having already taken her pain medication in an attempt to alleviate it. 

Sensing the victory, Zari motions toward the couch. “Just take your shirt off and lay down.” Sara walks to the couch and pushes down the urge to keep her back covered. ‘Nothing Z hasn’t already seen,’ she thinks bitterly. She peels off her shirt and tosses it on the ground, laying face down on the couch. Zari comes over and rubs some oil in between her hands, trying to warm it.

“Ready?”

Unsure, Sara tentatively nods. After a few seconds, she feels Zari’s hands on her shoulder blades. The action is followed by intense, stabbing pain. The blonde sucks in a breath and reflexively stiffens, attempting to contain it. The pain lessens slightly as Zari moves around her back, but it never completely goes away. When Zari passes over the worst scar, a long gnarled angry line running across her back from shoulder blade to hip, she whimpers in pain. 

“Shit, sorry, I'll avoid that one. Do you think you can keep going?” Zari sounds concerns and a little guilty, so Sara breathes through her pain.

“I think so. Give me a minute?”

“Of course. As long as you need.”

She takes a moment to collect herself until the pain fades to a tolerable level, steeling herself before giving Zari permission to continue. Eventually she feels her muscles loosening with every massage stroke, and despite the pain, she manages to relax slightly.

After a while, Zari begins to slow. She leans back and checks on Sara. The blonde can tell her back is looser and feels so much better. But having the scars touched exhausts her and causes her shoulders to sag from the fatigue.

Tears squeeze out of her closed eyes. Zari gets Sara’s shirt from the floor and uses it to cover Sara’s back before stepping away to give her some space.“Sara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Sara shakes her head, “You didn’t hurt me, Z. It’s just a lot. No one has touched my back since— since—” She can’t finish her sentence. Everything from today is catching up with her, and she is losing her carefully maintained control.

“I know the massages are important but— fuck. I can’t do this.” She sits up abruptly and puts on her shirt before putting her head in her hands. 

“Will you drop me off at Laurel’s?”

Setting her guilt aside, Zari nods and runs to go grab her keys. When she starts driving to Laurel’s apartment she looks over to Sara, who is staring out the window in silence. When she pulls over in front of their destination, she worriedly turns to watch the blonde exit the car.

Sara turns around and plasters on a small smile for Zari. “It’s not your fault. My reaction, I mean. I know these massages are important, and I really appreciate you being willing to do them for me. I just— it hurts, Z.” Her voice cracks, and she looks away briefly before continuing. “I’ll call you in the morning.” She tiredly climbs the steps up to Laurel’s hall and knocks on her door. Laurel opens the door, dark brown eyes widening in surprise. Her face is flushed from what Sara can assume is alcohol, since the smell is trickling off of her. Her shoulder-length light brown hair is mused. ‘Probably from massaging her scalp after a long day at work,’ the blonde observes. 

“S-Sara? What are you doing here? Are you alright? Why didn’t you call?” 

Sara cuts her off. “I just needed to come see you.” Laurel’s eyes soften, and she stands back to let her sister enter. Sara walks into the living room and spots Amaya sitting on the couch, two half empty wine glasses on the coffee table. She was casually leaning back until she spots Sara.

“Is everything alright?” 

Amaya moves quickly to stand in front of the blonde, reaching out to hold both of her hands. She takes a quick look at Sara, taking in her haunted expression, sluggish movements, and red eyes. Amaya pulls her into a tight hug. The dark haired woman’s nurturing touch grounds her. In the safety of her sister's apartment, she whispers, “Can I stay here tonight?” as tears stream down her face.

\---------

Sara’s feet shuffle out of the guest room toward the kitchen in search of food. Laurel tends to be stifling when she is struggling with something, so the blonde slept in Laurel’s guest room. And despite not knowing what Sara is going through, Amaya also stayed the night to hold her until she fell asleep. However, she was gone when Sara woke up.

The smell of coffee reaches her nose as she rounds the corner to the kitchen. Amaya is sitting on a bar stool next to the island, sipping her coffee. Laurel stands on the other side of the island, eating a bowl of cereal. She glances up at Sara.

“Coffee?” The blonde nods as Laurel reaches into the cabinet next to the fridge for another mug. She settles onto another bar stool next to Amaya. She takes a moment to pull out her phone and shoot Zari a text saying that she is fine and will get a ride with Amaya to work. Laurel slides the warm mug over to her, and Sara grasps it eagerly, thanking her sister before taking a sip. They all avoid the elephant in the room, not wanting a repeat of last night.

“Ava is being released this afternoon.” Amaya looks at Laurel as she speaks, but she tries to gauge Sara’s interest. The blonde suspiciously avoids eye contact with either party, so Amaya continues.“Aly asked me to take her home since she will be working.” 

Laurel’s upbeat expression morphs into a frown. “Yes, she will be. This case we’ve been chasing has everyone working overtime. Does she have anyone who’ll be able to take care of her?” She lifts her mug to take a sip, glancing at Sara.

Still avoiding her sister’s gaze, Sara looks over at Amaya. “I could help if you want. I know getting her in and out of a car will be difficult and then getting her settled at home.” 

Amaya smiles, “Of course, Sara, that would be very helpful.” She takes another sip of her coffee and shares a knowing look with Laurel. They both knew Sara and how she had denied very obvious feelings for Ava. “I’ll page you when I get her discharge papers in order.”

“Sounds good to me.”

\--------

Breakfast remained uneventful after that discussion. Amaya drives herself and Sara to work with some light conversation to occupy their minds. Once at work, they don their scrubs in the attendings’ lounge and go their separate ways. Sara tries to keep her mind busy until it is time to go. She has a trauma surgery that helps with the distraction, but she gets the page as she is finishing her last suture on the patient’s liver.

“Dr. Danvers, will you please finish the closing? I have to be somewhere.” Kara nods as Sara turns to walk into the scrub room, yanking off the surgical gown to dispose of it. She scrubs her hands like her life depends on it, singing Hit The Road Jack by Ray Charles in her head. It was a few seconds over two minutes (the exact amount of time she was required to wash her hands), and she had it memorized by heart due to her dad playing it every chance he got. Even though she wants to rush, she continues to scrub her arms, hands, and brace for the allotted time frame required.

Wiping off her hands, she rushes to throw her brace into her bag and sprint down the hall. Some of the nurses give her death glares for running, but she ignores them in her haste. Skidding to a stop at the front doors, Sara checks the time on her phone. She managed to stop by the attending’s lounge to grab her stuff, but she didn't have enough time to change out of the scrubs.

Sara glances up to see Amaya wheeling Ava down the hall towards her in a wheelchair. She has a small smile on her face as they get closer. When they are within a few feet, Ava speaks.

“Amaya, can we stop here? I can make it to the car because it's literally right there.” Ava gestures at the awaiting orange Toyota Rav 4 in the drop-off zone. Amaya sighs, “It’s against hospital policy. Sorry, Ava.” 

“Please, Amaya, this is ridiculous.” Sighing, Amaya engages the brakes and reaches out to help her stand. Ava waves her off, but the dark haired woman keeps her hands around her upper back, ready for brace a sudden fall.

Even in her hunched state, Sara has to look up slightly to see the woman’s face. After her wobbly first step, the short blonde drifts forward to catch her if she falls. The sight of a body moving in front of her causes Ava to make direct eye contact with Sara. Ava’s eyes shift from surprise to something else that Sara doesn't recognize.

*_ Thwack _*

Sara cups her face in shock. Rage, that’s the look. Definitely rage. And a lot of hurt too. The slight sting on her left cheek tells her she isn't dreaming. Ava Sharpe just slapped her, and pretty hard for someone who was shot days ago. Her mouth hangs open in shock as her mind races to catch up with what just happened.

“That was for not calling me back.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't I tell you that you wouldn't want to miss this chapter?? A lot going on now. This chapter was one that for me I knew the ending before anything else. Heat of the moment, all your feelings just flooding you at once, slap. Things can only go up from there right? ;)  
Anyways, again thank you for reading! We love seeing the comments y'all leave us! Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! We do our best to update on Monday's, I'm working full time and Elias is at college full time so schedules are tight. ~ Animagus


	6. Dine and Dash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava goes home to her apartment accompanied by Amaya and Sara. Tensions are high between the two blondes, high enough that Amaya isn't sure how this will end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! It's Monday! Yay! This chapter finally digs into more about Ava and her take on their ending. Hope you enjoy reading! ~ Animagus
> 
> Warnings: Brief mentions of war
> 
> Special thanks to @starling83 for betaing!

Ava is still reeling when they enter her apartment, palm stinging from the intensity of the hit. Sara stayed silent the entire ride over and is down at the car gathering up some of Ava’s things from the hospital. Amaya didn’t know if she should be laughing at their childish antics or running for the hills when their reunion went south. The slap had shocked all of them. 

Amaya helps her sit on the couch, propping her up with pillows. The tall blonde waves her away, reassuring her that she will be fine on the couch. The brown-eyed woman moves toward the kitchen to set up dinner, finally giving her a moment alone.

She closes her eyes, remembering her life after that whirlwind date with Sara Lance.

\---------

_ Ava woke up feeling great. She went to work the same as everyday, but a smile continued to shine the whole day. For Ava Sharpe, that wasn’t a usual day at the office. Even reports about an attempted failed raid didn’t drag her down. Happy and light, she reveled in her uplifted emotions. _

_ She rode that high for a few days until insecurities finally whittled it down to nothing but doubt. She had been confident that Sara would call. But time kept moving, and no call came. _

_ Two weeks passed, and Ava was done waiting around. She mentioned to her twin sister that Sara never called, hoping Aly would have an answer. _

_ “I’ll talk to Laurel and see what I can drum up.” They made plans to have coffee together at the place down the block from the DA’s office. The high profile cases that were coming in lately, thanks to Ava and the FBI, had made many of the public servants skittish and demand employees frequent areas that had been deemed ‘safe’. So the coffee shop was their best option due to the high volume of lawyers and cops that went to the joint. _

_ Ava entered the coffee shop, seeing her sister sitting toward the back. She didn’t wave which was their usual greeting, so Ava knew something was bothering her twin. _

_ As she sat down, Aly slid her one of the two coffees on the table. She waited as Ava got comfortable and tasted her coffee, pondering how to break the news. _

_ “Okay, what has gotten you so freaked that you look like you will break someone’s leg?” _

_ Aly’s eyes widened before darting away. “What about breaking someone’s heart?” Her words were so soft that Ava almost missed them in the orchestra of sounds coming from the crowd around them. She fixed her sister with a puzzled look, causing Aly to sigh. _

_ “She’s gone, Aves. Laurel told me she deployed last week. She assured me that Sara had mentioned no plans of this before your date.” Ava’s heart clenched, and she felt her nose prickling. _

_ “Why did she go?” _

_ Aly shrugged. “Laurel doesn’t know. She’s actually kind of pissed that Sara never called you. Apparently she got to text her that night before Sara got pulled into surgery and said she seemed very happy.” The words brought tears to Ava’s blue-gray eyes. _

_ “If she was so happy, then why did she go? Without any word?” _

_ Aly grabbed Ava’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I don’t know, hun. But it’ll be okay. You don’t need her anyways.” _

_ \--------- _

Never had her sister been more right. She didn’t need Sara _ fucking _Lance to come crawling back into her life. She hears the door open and shut, probably Sara bringing her things in. The anger is boiling inside as Ava clenches her jaw. She readies herself to give the short blonde a piece of her mind, but the words die on her lips when she notices Sara’s hand for the first time.

She shifts Ava’s bulky overnight bag and ‘Get Well’ memorabilia on her shoulder, and in doing so, puts her hand fully on display. Her movement grabs Ava’s attention, but what holds it is the sight of Sara’s mangled hand. Practically her entire hand is covered in scar tissue. The fact that she uses it to carry things is astonishing; and she can’t even process the fact that Sara had performed her surgery!

She darts her eyes to her lap to avoid being caught staring. Likewise, Sara snatches her hand down and shoves it in her pocket before grabbing the bags with her other hand. 

It hits her that Aly had found out very little about Sara’s tour and recovery from Laurel, claiming that even Laurel barely knew what was going on. She knew that Sara had been promoted to Captain, and she had assumed that her time overseas had been largely uneventful. Laurel had reassured her that during her last deployment Sara had almost exclusively worked in hospitals established by the U.S. Army of Engineer Corps to help with the refugee crisis. 

But she had no idea if that was the case this time, and she knew from her job that during Sara’s employment, the US had worked with the Afghanistan military to launch an aggressive series of strikes designed to cripple the Taliban's funding. Such action demanded combat-trained field medics that were high-ranking enough to be included in such a covert mission, but not high-ranking enough that they wouldn’t be able to leave their job. Sara met all of the qualifications.

“Where do you want all of this?” Ava glances up at the short blonde’s voice breaking through her thoughts. Sara carefully diverts her eyes to anywhere except those blue-gray orbs staring at her. Her cheek still stings from getting slapped.

“Just put it down. It’s gotta be heavy.” Ava insists. 

“I’ll take your clothes to your bedroom if you want and leave the rest here.” Sara takes a step to move, but she stays in place. The tips of her ears turn red along with her face as she realizes she hasn’t ever been in the agent’s apartment. 

Her hesitation reminds Ava of this fact, so she quickly tries to help.“Straight ahead through the kitchen.” 

Sara nods once in thanks and puts down part of her load. She straightens up and continues back toward the direction that Ava had indicated. Setting down the clothes on the bed, the short blonde takes a moment to collect her swirling emotions. She shoves them down in her mental box and returns to the kitchen.

Amaya looks up from the counter where she started chopping some vegetables for dinner. She gives Sara a small smile as the blonde goes to wash her hands to help speed up the prep.

“Can you grab the chicken out of the fridge and trim it?” Wordlessly, Sara does as she is told. They work in silence for a few moments. Amaya flits around the kitchen, putting equipment in front of her and motioning for Sara to do her thing. She and Zari were both horrible cooks, but had become accustomed to the Middle Eastern flavor profile while overseas. Before heading back to America, Zari (always acting with food on the mind) had bought as much local spice blends as she could fit in her carry-on bag. Zari had gifted Amaya with her favorite, a dry blend of spices called za'atar, which she has Sara rub into the chicken before tossing it in a pan.

Focusing on her one job, Sara relaxes as the sounds and smells remind her of dad’s cooking attempts. The small smile that graces her face doesn’t go unnoticed. Ava manages to sit up a little higher on the couch to spy over it, checking out the cooking progress. Her heart flutters at seeing the short blonde so relaxed in her apartment.

“What smells so good?”

Sara looks up in surprise at the unexpected noise. Seeing Ava causes her emotions that slipped out to have mental walls slam on them, squashing any relaxed happy feelings.

“I’m cooking some vegetables, and she’s making the chicken.” Amaya turns to face her helper. “Sara, can you watch these vegetables simmering? I need to grab something from the car. I’ll be really quick!” She wipes her hands and heads for the door, effectively leaving the two blondes alone. The short blonde moves to stand in between the two burners to monitor the food more closely, not to put her back more toward Ava.

Feeling guilty, the tall blonde tries to break the tension.

“So how has work been?” Bright blue eyes meet her gaze with surprise.

“Pretty good for being back only a week.” She can tell Ava is doing the mental math and watches as her mouth falls open.

_ “They let you cut me open on your first day back?!” _ Ava thinks about slapping her again when Sara’s signature smirk makes an appearance. 

“Aw, you were never in any danger. I could’ve done that with my eyes closed.” The tall blonde’s eyes skeptically flirt over her injured limb. Sara tucks it into her side tighter, wishing she could make the scarring invisible.

“The nurse told me there was a complication.” She receives no response. Sighing, she ponders a few subjects to try. Frustrated, she goes with the one thought that has bugged her for the last year.

“So why did you do it?”

“Do what?” The short blonde doesn’t look up. She knows where this is going but wishes it won’t.

“Why go on a blind date with me that almost led to… that, and then leave? Up out of the blue?” Silence meets her words. “Had to cross half the world to get away? From me? Life? I think I deserve at least an explanation. You go over there for war, to be on the front lines and for what? It must have been nice to get away.” Her voice increases with venom lacing her words at the end. Clutching her fists, Sara loosens a breath.

“Yeah, because I had such a great time at war. It was like a picnic.” She grumbles under her breath.

“What?” 

Sara turns to fully face her, posture stiffening.

“_ I said it was a fucking picnic. Avoiding IUDs and Taliban assault rifles. Just fucking perfect! _” Ava’s accusation had blasted through her guard, so she scrambles to put it back up. She steadies her breathing, calming herself to not add to Ava’s stress, before schooling her face into a neutral expression.

“I wish I never went.” Those words settle around them both. Shock forms on their faces, and Ava opens her mouth to reply. She is interrupted by Amaya slamming the front door. Entering the living room with arms full of bags, Amaya glances between the two, wondering what she missed.

“I got the other things that Aly and Laurel sent for you, Ava. Just some stuff to help you with your recovery.”

She sets them down next to her friend and pulls a blanket from the back of the couch to drape it over her. Once she makes sure the tall blonde is settled, she turns back to finish cooking the vegetables.

Soon, Amaya and Sara plate the food and take it to the living room. Sara sits on the floor next to the coffee table while Amaya sits in the armchair perpendicular to the couch. The dark haired woman notices how the two blondes are silent while enjoying their chicken and vegetables. Finally to break the silence, Sara speaks.

“So, how did you end up on my OR table?” Ava stops mid chew to contemplate her response.

“I was chasing a suspect after staking them out all night. My backup was looking out for any interference, but they missed the second guy. He popped out from around a corner and got a few shots off before I could duck behind a dumpster for cover.”

Sara clenches her fist under the table. She hates the thought of Ava sitting alone, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“You were lucky.” Sara leaves it at that, knowing it is against hospital policy to tell her about the close calls.

Ava nods, “I know, but the suspect was important in the case against the local mob. He was our first promising lead to whoever is behind it all. If we can get to the mastermind, we can start to dismantle the whole operation.”

“So things are still bleak around here?”

“Not so much to the public eye, but it’s only gotten worse in the past year. The gang wars are growing due to this new player taking up so much territories and revenue. The other gangs are practically at war over this guy’s scraps.” Ava sighs and returns to her food.

“Well, at least the projects have a great agent in their corner.” Sara smirks at her and stabs a vegetable with her fork. They all continue to eat in silence for the rest of the meal. Amaya keeps glancing at both blondes, not completely sure of what to talk about. So she goes along with the silence, internally smiling at the thought of telling Laurel about all that transpired.

Once dinner is finished and cleaned up, Sara and Amaya pack up to leave. Ava bites her lip as she gets lost in her thoughts. Finally, she works up the nerve to ask Amaya, “So, would you be able to stop by some until I get cleared to do things for myself? I would ask Aly but the case is keeping her swamped.”

Amaya thinks this over quickly and replies with a sympathetic smile, “I would love to but my plate is very full right now.” She glances over at Sara, debating how much trouble she is going to be in from her next words. “Sara just finished PT so her schedule should be freeing up.”

Sara darts her head to glare at Amaya for revealing a piece of information about her injury. She quickly hides the look and turns to face Ava, blush creeping up her neck.

“Um--yeah I have some free time if you need any help with stuff.” Ava’s mouth dries up. She stares with disbelief, mouth hanging slightly open. Subtly shaking her head to gain focus, she disagrees.

“I’m sure you have much more pressing things than checking up on me.” 

“It’d be no problem, I’ll bring food.”

“Fine. Anything except Italian.” Ava sees the slight flinch pass over the short blonde’s face.

“No Italian. Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for all the encouragement with this fic! We definitely love hearing from everyone! Feel free to leave any comments, questions, and predictions! Updates on Monday's! ~Animagus


	7. Bad Company♭

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara, true to her word, has to bring Agent Sharpe dinner. These two really need to try not to kill each other. Hopefully they can try to be friends? Maybe more? Plus who doesn't love some "friendly" board game competition?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Time for another update! This chapter segways into a few more fluffy and sweet moments for Sara and Ava that'll happen in later chapters. Hope you enjoy it! ~ Animagus
> 
> Warnings: Hospital scene for gunshot, injury flare up

Sara watches the clock, hoping time will slow down so she could put off having to see a certain agent. ‘Why did I agree to this?’ She has 15 minutes left before her shift ends for the day. All too quickly, the clock lands on 5 o’clock. Sighing, the short blonde removes her brace, changes out of her scrubs and packs up her things, waving goodbye to her colleagues.

‘Well, this’ll be fun.’ Her first challenge is finding Ava food. Finding food will be easy. Finding food Ava will eat? That might prove a little more difficult, since Sara hasn’t asked her what she would like.

\-----------

Ava struggles to get up from her couch to go to the kitchen. It’s a quarter past six and still no sign of Sara. 

“Knew she wouldn’t show.” The tall blonde purses her lips. She makes it to the counter, holding onto it as she grabs a glass to get some water. When she reaches up just a little too high, a slicing pain stabs her gut. She gasps out a breath as the glass falls to the floor. Clutching her side, she looks on helplessly at the mess. 

“Great, just fucking great.” She closes her eyes tight, frustration cascading over her.

Her eyes flash open at the sound of the front door unlocking. To her surprise, a familiar blonde walks in. She has not noticed Ava yet, so the tall blonde takes a moment to observe her. ‘She looks better today. Not as stiff as last night.’ She berates herself at the thought. She should not be thinking about the doctor like that.

“Ava? Hey, it’s Sara. I have food.” Ava sighs knowing she can not hide this from her.

“I’m in the kitchen. Watch out, there’s glass.” Sara follows her voice into the kitchen after setting the food on the coffee table. Her eyes widen when she sees the glass. Ava is standing in the middle of the chaos scattered across the floor.

“Woah, okay…” She scans the mess and tries to figure out how to get the tall blonde safely out of this predicament. A plan forms in her mind, but Ava will _ definitely not _like it.

“So I’m gonna get you out of there, but I need you to trust me, okay?” Sara knows she might be asking a lot of her since just yesterday Ava literally slapped her on sight. The tall blonde scrunches her eyebrows together while she mulls over the question. With a defeated look, she nods.

Sara moves forward quickly. Her left arm hits the back of Ava’s legs, effectively knocking them out from under her. As she falls backward, Sara scoops her upper body up with her right arm. The tall blonde throws her hands up around Sara’s neck out of instinct, fearing being dropped. The short blonde shuffles them away from the glass, walking over to the couch.

“Um, Sara? You can put me down now.” Sara blinks, realizing she held on a little too long. She sets Ava’s feet on the ground and helps her onto the couch, grasping the tall blonde’s hands as she leans down to sit. 

Ava loosens a breath, “Thanks for that.” She keeps her eyes on the thread pattern of the couch, a slight blush rising on her cheeks. Sara’s eyebrows narrow.

“You can’t be doing things like that, Ava. You are lucky I got here when I did. How long before your legs gave out and you fell?” The tall blonde wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I didn’t know you would really come. I needed water so I tried to get it myself.” The short blonde’s gaze softens, and she pointedly looks to the ground.

“Of course I would come, Ava. I said I would, and I keep my promises.”

Before the other woman gets the chance to rebuke her statement, she turns away abruptly to deal with the mess. She hadn’t had any real physical contact with anyone since her return. At least, not sober. Even that short period of contact with Ava in her arms left her flustered, and she didn’t want Ava noticing her flushed cheeks and slightly dilated pupils. 

She finds a broom and pan in the pantry to sweep up the shards. Once she is done cleaning up, she grabs the food off of the coffee table and begins taking the food out of the bag.

“So I didn’t know what you wanted, but I stopped at a taco truck and bought a few different types.” She lines up the tacos on the coffee table, and Ava waits for her until she’s done lining all of them up. Sara twists her hands when she finishes. The tall blonde stares incredulously at the food in front of her, and she takes her lack of response as disapproval.

“Geeze, Sara, are you feeding an army?” Ava gives her an incredulous look when she finally speaks up.

“Um, well again, I wasn’t sure what you would want. So I kind of bought one of everything.” She crosses her arms to ward off any doubts that her action wasn’t justified. “This one is their shrimp taco, next is the chorizo one, then arrachera…” She points to each taco, explaining the contents as Ava listens. When she reaches the sixth one, the tall blonde waves her off, her mouth watering from the smells.

“I get it. I’ll just eat whatever sounds good and save the others for later.”

Sara frowns, “Well I figured I would stay and eat with you. Just to give you a break from the silence.” 

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” Ava does not want to admit that the silent apartment was slowly becoming a prison cell. Any distractions are welcome at this point, even from the irritating yet adorable blonde.

‘When did she go from the last person in the world I want to see to irritating and adorable?’ She furrows her brow.

“Or I could go if it bothers you?” She looks up to realize Sara took a step back toward the door.

“NO, um--no. St--stay. You brought way too many tacos for me to eat by myself.” A small grin passes over the short blonde’s face as she moves forward to take a seat on the couch by her feet. They both grab a few tacos and start eating. It is quiet except for the occasional wrapper crumpling.

Ava thinks about when their situation had been this strained; unbearable really.

_ Agent Gary Green had been shot. He wasn’t supposed to be in the field at all. She had instructed him to stay put in the car. The junior agent was a lanky, nerdy guy with short dark brown hair and black rimmed glasses who tended to talk too much and at the wrong moments. He wasn’t cleared for field work due to failed simulations (he couldn’t hit the targets accurately upon being fired at). _

_ She got an emergency call to check out a potential informant while they were on their way back to their office from a meeting with the director of the Chicago Division of the FBI. _

_ Unable to let the opportunity go, she went to meet the informant. As she was entering the sketchy warehouse where she was to meet the guy, she heard someone behind her. She turned around in time to see Gary launch himself towards a man dressed in black. Instantly, a gun went off as the two tumbled to the hard ground. _

_ The man pushed Gary off, but Ava was there in a second to subdue and cuff him. Just as quickly, she dialed 911 and inspected Gary. There was a bullet somewhere in his abdomen, and he was quickly losing blood. _

_ “Hang on, Gary. Help’s coming.” Fear was evident in his eyes. _

_ “I--I’m sorry, Agent Sharpe. I--” _

_ “Hush Gare, it’ll be okay. Help is coming.” Ava stripped off her pant suit jacket to push it against the gushing wound. “Everything will be okay, I promise.” _

_ The medics showed up fairly quick since they were still in the city limits. They wasted no time loading up the agent in the cab, and Ava sat beside him, holding his hand. He faded in and out of consciousness on the way to the hospital, which caused Ava to panic. _

_ After they unloaded him from the rig, the medics wheeled him into the bustling ER. Nurses and doctors flew past them, never once looking over. Ava’s frustration and panic grew with every second. _

_ A blonde doctor hustled over to help. She was shorter than Ava, only by a few inches. Her blonde hair was swept back into a ponytail, a few strands framing her face where they had slipped out. Freckles dotted her face and trailed down into her scrubs. This was the kind of person with an easy smile that Ava could fall for. But her focus was on Gary, not the hot blonde in front of her. _

_ She listened to the medics relay the information to the blonde, who pointed over to one of the trauma rooms. _

_ “I need to get him stabilized before moving him upstairs.” The medics nodded and moved in that direction with a team of nurses following. Ava reached out to grab the doctor’s arm and maneuvered herself so she stood in front of her path. The short blonde glanced down to her hand and then up to her face in confusion. _

_ “Wait, he needs surgery to get that bullet out. He shouldn’t be down here, he’s lost too much blood!” The doctor looked at her with sympathy. _

_ “We have to check him out before moving forward.” The doctor moved away, but Ava didn’t relent. _

_ “He will die. Why can’t you just go do something that will actually help?” Bright blue eyes met her glare. _

_ “This is how we do things. He has to be evaluated to determine the surgeon’s course of action.” _

_ “You mean you are prepping him for the real doctor? Can you just skip the pomp and circumstance and get there already?” The short blonde narrowed her eyes, jaw muscle twitching. _

_ “I am the real doctor. So why don’t you let me get back to my job so I can pluck that bullet out of your friend’s body… and maybe that stick out of your ass. Preferably before he bleeds out in my exam room.” _

_ Ava’s mouth hung open in shock as the short woman shouldered past her, ponytail mocking her with every swish. _

After five tacos, the tall blonde leans back deeper into the cushions, groaning in frustration from her fullness. She looks over to she Sara shoving her seventh taco into her mouth. A little of the guacamole sticks to her lips and Ava chuckles, grimacing from the action

The unexpected sound floats to the short blonde’s ears and makes all of her uncertainties fall away. She gives the tall blonde a big grin while her cheeks are stuffed full of delicious tacos. Her antics earn her another chuckle that turns into a groan and an eye-roll.

‘God, if she hadn’t been shot, I would spend all day trying to make her laugh like that night.’ She shakes the thought away, focusing on her taco. When she takes the last bite, she wipes her hands off and looks around, stalling. They sit in silence for a few more moments.

“Do you like playing cards?” Sara’s brows furrow in confusion at the question.

“Uh, sure? Like what kind?”

“Go Fish, Rummy, Black Jack? Really anything, I’m a quick learner. They are over on the shelf.” Sara walks over to where Ava points and grabs a deck.

“Any of those work. Just don’t get mad when I beat you.” Sara had spent the majority of her free time during her deployment hanging out with Mick and Leo; Ava had no idea what she was up against. She smirks at Ava, who rolls her eyes.

“Whatever, Lance. Just cut the cards and deal.” 

\-------------

Sara brings Ava food every evening after that, and they end every night with a game. After the first few nights, Ava quickly realizes she would never beat Sara at a game of cards. Instead of suffering through Sara’s endless gloating, they eventually switched to board games. They would play a few rounds of each one before moving on to the next one, trying to drag out their time or score a rematch.

As they start running out of games, the short blonde buys some at the store that look promising or would definitely make Ava laugh at the absurdity of it. After two weeks, laughing becomes easier as her wounds heal, the delightful sound making Sara find ways to hear it more.

Tonight after dinner, they decide to play one of Laurel’s favorites, Settlers of Catan, on the coffee table. She loaned it to Sara, with the reminder that she is missing the robber. When Sara tells Ava this as she explains the game, the tall blonde grins and points at the salt shaker on the kitchen table.

“There’s your robber. Go get it and get ready to lose, Lance. Your ass is mine.” At hearing her words, Ava’s face breaks out into a blush. Sara has a hard time containing her grin.

“Why Agent Sharpe, I would think you would at least buy me dinner first.”

The tall blonde huffs at the cheeky comment. “Just go get it so we can start.”

\-------

“No _ fucking _ way.” Sara stares at the table in front of her. Ava wins the game for the second time that night. She tries to stifle her smile, but the short blonde’s reaction makes it difficult.

“You cheated. There’s just no way you had all of those victory point cards!” She leans her head closer to Ava, glaring in challenge. The tall blonde smirks and shrugs her shoulders.

“I’m a good strategist. Your fatal flaw was trading me the ore for more wood.”

Sara winks at her. “Well now one can never have too much _ wood.” _Ava groans and puts her hands over her eyes.

“Why is everything a sex joke with you?” Chuckling, she removes her hands and looks at the short blonde. Her gaze is met by electric blue eyes. The look causes her to shiver from the intensity.

“Because I’ll do anything to hear that laughter from your lips.” The statement catches Ava off guard, a deep blush hitting her instantly. Her face falls shortly after, turning solemn.

“Sara, I-I’m sorry for slapping you. That was uncalled for. You didn’t des--” The short blonde holds up her hand, halting the apology.

“It’s fine, Ava. I did deserve it. I was a dick to you and should’ve called or something before I left.” Sara sighs, spreading her fingers out in front of her on the table. “If I’m being honest, that night was one of the best nights of my entire life. It could’ve been the start of so much more if things had happened differently.” Her eyes get a far-away look in them.

Ava places her hand over the closest one on the table. This pulls Sara back to the present, her eyes lifting to meet the blue-gray ones in front of her. She sees the tall blonde’s small smile.

“It was one of the best nights I’ve ever had too.” Her eyes flash down to Sara’s lips. Suddenly, their friendly banter turns into a silent stare-off, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move.

The short blonde breaks first, leaning toward her counterpart. She stays at a slow pace, giving Ava the opportunity to back away. Just as their lips are about to touch, the tall blonde leans forward to bridge the gap.

The kiss starts off slow, their lips softly grazing over each others. It builds in tempo as Sara adds pressure, her hand coming up to clutch the nape of Ava’s neck. Her lack of physical interaction since coming home has her driving forward, tongue slipping out to skim the tall blonde’s bottom lip. Ava’s gasp gives the short blonde access to her mouth, tongues intertwining. 

Finally, they pull apart, gasping in breaths, foreheads pressed against each other. Sara leans back a little, a huge smile adorning her face and the corner of her eyes crinkled softly.

“Wanna go on a date?”

“Yeah,” Ava breathes, “I’d like that.” The short blondes releases a relieved breath.

“Awesome, now humor me. I have to beat you at least once before the night is over.” 

Ava scoffs in response. “You wish, Lance. Reset the board and roll.” As Sara reaches for the dice with her left hand, a tremor seizes her hand. It spasms once and stops. She continues her movement, eyes determined and her jaw clenched. ‘It’s fine, just a fluke.’ 

As her fingers clasp the dice, another spasm wracks her hand, causing her to drop the dice. The pain is intense, tears springing to her eyes. She pulls it in close, cradling it to her body, and stands abruptly.

“Sara, what’s wrong?” The short blonde shakes her head and whimpers, pain being her only focus. 

“Medicine, side pocket. Bag.” Her response is terse, but Ava takes immediate action, finding the bottle her bag from the side of the couch and uncapping it to hand it to her. Sara takes them from her and rushes to the kitchen for a glass of water, trying not to jostle her throbbing hand.

Ava watches from her perch on the couch, observing every movement. It takes several moments of tense silence until Sara can relax her grip. She slowly flexes her hand, testing out the fingers for tension. Huffing out a breath, she puts the glass in the sink and walks back to the tall blonde.

Sara can see the look of confusion on Ava’s face, but she can’t bring herself to try and wipe it away. The incident took a lot out of her.

“Ava, I think I’m gonna call it a night. It’s late and you need your rest.” The tall blonde blinks twice before nodding. Relief passes quickly over Sara’s face, replaced by her famous smirk.

“Plus you are gonna need to rest up for our date.” The short blonde has a flirty gleam in her eye.

“Is that true, Dr. Lance?” Ava replies, quickly picking up on the change in Sara’s mood.

“T’is so, Agent Sharpe.” She winks at the tall blonde. “So I’ll bid you good morrow.” She ends it with a little bow, winning a laugh from Ava.

_ ‘Yep, I’d do anything to hear that music.’ _ Grinning, Sara swoops in for another kiss before heading for the door. 

“Good night, Agent Sharpe.”

“Good night, Doctor Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Elias and I always enjoy seeing the comments y'all leave! As you can see, things are finally moving along for these two! Update next Monday! Please leave comments, questions, or predictions if you have them. We love knowing how y'all feel about the events that take place in every chapter. Have a great week! ~Animagus
> 
> Side note: I got a brand new game of Settlers of Catan a few years back. Opened it up and there was no robber. So we ended up using a salt shaker which helped add some details for this fic!


	8. Cool Water♭

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Date (again) for Ava and Sara! They can have a good fun low key night with friends right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! That time of the week again! Well we got their first kiss (again) last week. Let's see how this date goes!
> 
> Thank you to starling83 for betaing this fic! (I swear I will get this shoutout right eventually)
> 
> Warning: Drinking and some violence
> 
> Hope you enjoy ~ Animagus

The next day she tells Zari and Amaya that she is going to meet Ava at the Waverider after work, and it turns out that everyone else had planned on going already and was going to invite her. So she walks into the bar half an hour before her date, and catches up with her friends. As soon as she enters the building, Amaya is dragging her towards the bar, where Zari is sipping on a glass of water.

“Hey guys! What’s up?” Mick gives her a nod and a bottle of whiskey, and begins lining up shots along the bar. 

“Been practicing for ya, Captain. Gonna outdrink you this time.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, and if she weren’t meeting up with Ava, she would’ve indulged him without hesitation. 

“As much as I enjoy drinking you under the table, I’m gonna have to pass tonight. Gotta stay sober a little longer.”

Mick grunts, and she’s pretty sure she heard him say ‘boring’ under his breath before putting the glasses away, but she doesn’t have time to respond. Zari raises her eyebrows and slaps her lightly. “Last time I checked, Captain Sara Lance never turned down an opportunity to get wasted. Besides, you can’t even drive, which can only mean one thing.” 

“I’m not pregnant, I promise.”

“Ew, no.” 

She laughs at Zari’s disgusted expression, and Amaya picks up where Zari left off. “A little birdie told me you've been spending a lot of time with Ava.” She squirms in place, her cheeks growing red.

“Aw, someone has feelings.” She jumps at the sound of a new voice. The voice is a teasing, mocking, drawl. Normally, she would indignantly object to his teasing, but denying her affection for Ava and then spending the night with her in front of her friends would just open the door for even more teasing in the future. 

“Leonard, it’s been a hot minute.”

“And here I thought you were just being cold. But, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?” There was a gleam in his eyes and the slightest hint of a smirk.

“Fuck off, Snart.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He raises his hands in a placating gesture and grabs a drink behind him, placing it in front of her. “Heard you’re staying sober. Here’s a beer.” He winks at her and leaves to go tend the bar with Mick.

Zari takes the opportunity to get up, yelling, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back,” over the music. Mick and Leonard run the Waverider at different times and sport completely different atmospheres. During the day, Mick puts on heavy rock and serves drinks to a rowdier, more unpleasant crowd. Tired laborers, criminals, and folks looking to forget indulge in heavy liquor and start the occasional bar fight. But at night, Snart runs the club, and he is all about the night scene. He floods the bar with heavy, thumping bass and serves fancy drinks to the wealthier city-goers. His penchant for profit and willingness to turn the other eye so long as nobody is being hurt attracts everyone with deep pockets, from drug dealers to fancy lawyers.

Dusk is settling in now, and Sara is left with Amaya to wait for the rest of their friends to show up. They watch the bar patrons dance with abandon, and Amaya points towards one of the ladies. 

“She’s cute.”

“Oh, you thinking about switching teams?” The blonde wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Amaya just looks at her, watches her take a sip of her drink, and makes eye contact. “I had sex with Zari, and we’re in a relationship.”

She spits out her drink and coughs, turning a glare at her friend. “You waited for me to take a drink!”

“Maybe.”

“I know you did! Seriously?” She pretends to be mad for a few more moments before laughing. “I didn’t know you were into girls.” Her brows narrow as she ponders the new information.

“You were the one who turned me onto the idea, when you brought that girl home from war.” Amaya took a sip of her drink, her expression causing Sara to blush.

“That was different, she—”

“Yes, yes, Sara, we all know she saved your life and is amazing. But she opened up something in you that never went away. Zari did that for me.” Her face gets a far-away, dreamy look. Sara meanwhile finishes off her glass and signals to the barkeep for another.

“So how do you balance between them?” She runs her fingers around the rim of her glass, posing as uninterested. Her friend hasn’t spoken to her about things in her life in a long time, and she doesn’t want to scare her off now that she has started.

Amaya swallows hard. “I don’t...” Sara turns to look at her full force.

“Cut the shit, Amaya, I know you have a thing with Nate.” Her gaze says no bullshit. The dark-haired woman sighs.

“Well after I figured out I liked both of them, I came clean with them. And we kind of struck an arrangement.”

“Which is?” Sara isn’t letting this go easily. Amaya sits up a little straighter as the blonde picks up her new glass. She is midway through it when the dark haired woman speaks.

“That I would continue seeing both of them. At the same time.” Sara spits her drink out.

She coughs and sputters, trying to clear her throat to respond. “Wait. You mean that you have fun with Nate, at the same time as Zari. Like in the same place? Same bed?”

Amaya fails to hide her smile. “Yeah.”

Sara claps her on the back. “Damn, girl! I didn’t know you had it in you. Congrats!”

Chuckling at the blonde’s response, she hurriedly adds, “Just… don’t tell Zari or make fun of her. She can be sensitive about things.”

Sara snorts,”I’ll try to contain myself. But you have got to stop timing your shocking exploit details when I’m drinking!” Amaya smirks at the blonde, taking a sip of her own drink.

Zari walks back over.

Sara wiggles her eyebrows at the woman. “So, Zari, I noticed you haven’t washed your sheets in a few weeks.” Zari looks at Amaya, unimpressed.

“You told her, didn’t you?” 

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, you did… that’s the only reason she would wisecrack about how I haven’t washed my sheets. Because I haven’t slept at home in weeks.”

Sara scoffs. “Come on, I so would’ve figured it out.”

Amaya narrows her eyes at the short blonde. “Are you kidding me? You’re so wrapped around Ava’s little finger that you can’t think straight.”

“With a woman like that, why would I want to?” Sara winks at her best friend. She spots her girl walking in the front door. Waving, she gets Ava’s attention. She stares as the tall blonde snakes through the crowd. 

Ava is wearing a black high necked sleeveless sweater, form fitting gray pants, and black flats with her hair down, falling to one side to expose her neck. When Ava reaches Sara, she blushes and smiles warmly. Sara’s face softens.

“You look beautiful.”

“Don’t do that.” Ava fidgets as the short blonde narrows her brows.

“Don’t do what? Compliment you?” 

“Stare at me like that.” 

Sara’s face morphs into amusement. “Oh, and how was I staring at you?” She raises her eyebrow, challenging Ava to answer. The tall blonde huffs out a breath.

“Like I’m the first drop of water you’ve seen in weeks out in the desert.”

The short blonde ignores the pang in her chest and continues grinning. “Can’t blame a girl for being thirsty.” Ava’s blush gets deeper as she lets out a nervous chuckle. She shakes her head and moves to lean against the bar, signaling the nearest bartender.

“Two vodka martinis, stirred not shaken please.” 

Ava looks up towards the bartender, a lean clean-shaven man with startling blue steely eyes and a knowing smirk. “Ah, so you must be the famous Ava that we keep seeing the Captain blush about.” She glances over at Sara and sees the woman is beet-red and glaring at the bartender. The tall blonde returns her attention to him.

Leonard extends his hand to Ava. “Staff Sergeant Leonard Snart, at your service. Or as the Captain would say, a pain in her ass.” He winks toward the short blonde, who rolls her eyes. Ava accepts his hand and shakes it.

“Ava Sharpe, I’m-- uh, Sara’s friend.” He gives her a look that says he doesn’t believe that one bit.

“Friends that make out and stuff.” She turns to gawk at the short blonde who had whispered the words under her breath. Sara quirks an eyebrow up in her direction, daring her to contradict it. Leonard chuckles and goes to fix the drinks. He comes back and slides them over in front of the two blondes.

“On the house for our new… friend.” He smirks and shakes his head, turning around to assist the next customer.

“Well, he seems fun.” Ava shifts her focus back to the short blonde beside her. Sara’s eyes were boring into Snart’s back, probably trying to mentally light him on fire. She finally tears her eyes away from his retreating form to meet Ava’s eyes. The tall blonde is looking at her expectantly.

“What?”

Ava rolls her eyes and sighs. She smiles when she notices Amaya and Zari as they lean in closer.

“Hey Ava, how are you feeling?” Amaya places her hand on Ava’s back to get closer due to the noise.

“I’m hanging in there. Wish I could down a whole bottle with you guys tonight, but I have to watch my intake.”

Sara slips an arm around her waist. “That’s why I wasn’t drinking. Gotta stay at this one’s level tonight.”

Ava turns in her hips to face the short blonde. “Oh, don’t hold off on my account.”

Zari leans around Amaya’s side. “Yeah, Lance, didn’t Snart tell you something about a new drink?” Sara glares at her friend. Zari knows good and well that whatever Snart offered to make Sara would be guaranteed to get her wasted with one glass.

“Oh, that sounds great. You should get one.” Ava’s encouragement makes the short blonde chuckle.

She raises her eyebrows. “You realize that anything Snart makes might put me under the table, right?” 

Ava frowns slightly but nods. “Yeah, but I don’t want you to not have fun because of me.”

Her face has a look of surprise on it as Sara leans in a places a chaste kiss on her cheek. “That’s sweet of you. But I’ll be fine tonight.” She keeps her lips a few inches away from the tall blonde’s. “I have so much to stay sober for.” Ava stops breathing at the gleam in the short blonde’s eyes.

“HEY GUYS!” A yell jolts them out of their bubble, reminding them that the world still exists around them. 

“Hey Ray.” Both Zari and Amaya greet him.

“‘Sup, big guy.” Sara smirks as she accepts his hug. She had apologized to him after returning to work. Despite the guilt she felt, he had reassured her that he forgave her and wanted to move forward.

“Is this her?” Sara grimaces at his words. ‘Great, she’s gonna think I’m some sappy dork.’ 

“Um--yeah. Ray, this is Ava-- Ava Sharpe.” 

Ava smiles at him and reaches out to shake his hand. He completely bypasses her hand and engulfs her in a bear hug. She is frozen, arms trapped to her sides with no escape. Sara taps his shoulder.

“Uh, Ray, careful. Remember, surgery and all?” Seeming to remember who he is hugging and what she has been through, Ray delicately releases her form and places his hands on her upper arms.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry--sometimes I just--and I don’t--”

Ava waves him off. “It’s fine, Ray. It’s nice to meet you.” He nods with a smile. Before he can open his mouth, Sara grabs his attention.

“Where’s Laurel? She said she was coming with you.” Ray scrunches his eyebrows together and turns around to look behind him.

“She was right there…” His height gives him the advantage to scan above the crowd, and after a few seconds a big ecstatic grin appears on his face. “There, over in the back. It looks like she’s talking to someone.”

Sara perches up on her toes to try and see where Ray indicated. Ava mirrors the movement in case her height gives her a view that Sara may not have. She sees Laurel facing their direction, having a heated discussion with someone in a dark hoodie. After a few more seconds, the hooded figure moves away and out the door. Laurel walks the figure out, then turns into the groups direction.

When Laurel is within view, Sara shoots her a smile.

“Hey, Laur. I was just asking Ray if he forgot you.”

Laurel mirrors her smile and shrugs. “Oh, I just stopped off at the bathrooms.” She turns, noticing the new member. “Ava! It’s good to see you again outside of work.”

Ava nods to her. “Hey, Laurel. It’s good to see you as well.”

The three girls continue to talk about work and Ava’s recovery as the rest of their party shows up. Between Ray, Zari, and Amaya, most of their tolerable colleagues and a few select residents show up to have a few drinks and unwind from the work day. When the group is served their second round, they notice someone drawing everyone’s attention further down the bar.

“Hey bar man! ‘Nother one.” The man shows obvious signs of intoxication, way past decent levels. His fleece shirt is wrinkled with one cuff rolled up higher than the other, his hair floppy in odd angles like he ran his fingers through it repeatedly, and his face is flushed.

“Get lost dude. You’re cut off.” Mick continues pouring a Jack and Coke, ignoring the drunk guy’s glare.

The drunk guy slams his fist down on the counter, rattling nearby drinks. “Y-you’re gonna git cush off ‘f y-you don git me my beer!”

Mick narrows his eyes at the disruptor in front of him, holding the nozzle too long and making the Coke overflow the glass. “Take a hike, bozo.”

“Mek meh you shupid fucker!”

Whipping his towel onto the counter with a smack, Mick walks around the bar toward the drunk guy. Leonard looks up from drying glasses halfway down the bar but doesn’t move to interfere. He resumes his task, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Mick approaches the drunk guy. They are about the same height, but Mick has more build and muscle than the scrawny whiner in front of him.

He grabs the drunk guy by the shirt and pushes him backward toward the door. The drunk guy flails but doesn’t fall. Once he regains his balance, he wobbles forward and sends a left hook into Mick’s face. Not expecting much of a fight from someone so inebriated, Mick doesn’t dodge in time, and the fist clips him in the jaw. Despite the blow barely moving the giant man, he runs his hand over his jaw and his face contorts in rage.

He growls and spits out a little blood, then bores his gaze into his opponent. The whole group is watching now as Mick cracks his knuckles before launching himself at the drunk guy. Just as he gets in a series of punches, some of the drunk guy’s buddies come to his aid. Before they know it, the one-on-one fight has turned into a six-on-one.

After watching for a few moments, Sara’s hands twitch to form fists. Giving into temptation, she shouts to him, “Mick! You good?” He responds with a grunt which tells her that he isn’t ready for her to join in. She grimaces as she sees him take another blow to the stomach which he returns with a side kick. He manages to block five more blows in a row before receiving another blow to the back of his left knee.

Sara can’t stand it any longer. Before anyone can react, she is in the midst of the onslaught trading blows all around. The pain lacing up her left arm from her wrist with every blow is subdued with her adrenaline. With a determined look, she parries a few blows, and counters with swift and precisely placed jabs at her nearest attacker. When he staggers, she sweeps his legs out from under him, landing him flat on his back. Sensing that she is the bigger threat, the group focuses in on her.

Ava, who had been temporarily shocked by how quickly the situation with Mick had escalated, jumps into action. She slips off her stool and makes her way to the group. She musters up her usual work confidence and gets the nearest fighter’s attention to take some of the heat off of Sara.

Putting on her ‘scary work face’ as Gary calls it, she faces the man. “Stop this, now.”

“Why, bitch? Gonna call the law?”

She flashes her badge at him. “I am the law.”

His eyes flash wide, panic evident. As he is standing there processing, one of the other men run up and scream in Ava’s face.

“FUCK YOU, PIG!”

_ THWACK. CRUNCH. _

Sara looks up to see the man pulling his arm back to propel it forward into Ava’s face, right into her nose. Her world turns red, all the noise around her being blocked out by the pounding of blood pumping in her ears. Before she can register the change, Sara is in front of Ava, wailing on the poor soul dumb enough to hit her girl. When he is on the ground curling around himself, the other members of his group take notice and stop fighting, fear oozing off of them like a stench. They gather their injured friends and make a mad dash for the door.

Sara follows them with her eyes until they all exit the building. Letting out a long breath, her attention turns to Ava. The tall blonde is grasping her nose as a small trickle of blood escapes. Sara signals to Leonard, and he throws her a clean rag.

“Here, babe.” She gently removes the tall blonde’s hands from her face and lightly places the rag on her nose to staunch the bleeding. Sara takes one of Ava’s hands and replaces it on her nose to hold the towel and laces her fingers through the other one. “Hang on and stay close.”

She leads the tall blonde through the crowd until she reaches a quiet corner with a table and some chairs. Pushing Ava into one of them, she begins to remove the rag, so she can examine the damage. Putting pressure on the injury, she knows it isn’t broken despite Ava’s discomfort. The tall blonde winces as Sara’s fingers brush over the injury.

“Well, no break, which is good. Bad news is you are gonna have one hell of a bruise.” Sara smirks at the tall blonde.

Ava narrows her eyes at the short blonde, eyes holding a glimmer of challenge in them. “Guess it’s a good thing I have you to take care of me.”

A blush creeps up Sara’s face, but Amaya arrives before she can reply. She scans Ava’s face, taking in the darkening shade of the skin around her nose. Sighing, she pushes a bag full of ice into the tall blonde’s hand.

“You couldn’t just let it be, could you?” She shakes her head at them both and crosses her arms. “Do I need to go home with you?”

“I was trying to stop it before it got worse!” 

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Both blondes pause and look at each other, registering the words they blurted out. Amaya smiles and winks at the shorter blonde.

“Bet you will.”

\----------

Much to Sara’s disappointment, Ava had an oncoming migraine from her blow to the head once they get to her door. She apologizes profusely, but the short blonde waves her off saying that she needs to rest due to her new shiner and stitches. Lightly kissing her good night, Sara leaves.

As she starts to drift off to sleep in her bed, Sara feels her phone vibrate. She reaches for it, and her face lights up at the text.

_ Ava: Sorry about tonight :( Can I make it up to you? Dinner at my place on Thursday? _

Smiling, Sara types out her response.

_ Sara: Don’t worry about tonight. That sounds great to me:) I’ll bring the wine. _

She doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_ Ava: Very good. Can’t wait ;) _

‘Me neither.’ She chuckles and drifts off to sleep with a smile plastered to her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really happy to write another fight scene! What did y'all think? Hope you liked the chapter! As always feel free to leave comments, questions, and predictions! New chapter next week! Time to speed up the burn don't y'all think?  
~ Animagus
> 
> Side note: We started the relationship between the three as another story we can visit later on. Let us know what you think of that one too!


	9. Can’t Touch This♭

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava and Sara are finally getting a date alone. But the excitement quickly fizzles when Sara doubles over in pain. Will Sara let her walls down enough to let Ava in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Hope you enjoy reading this chapter! It's intense! This note is gonna be short so I don't spoil too much.
> 
> Warnings: Injury flare up and Smut (yes yes this is in this chapter) right after the dialogue of "Bedroom". It ends with a soft moment and then the morning after right below the dashes if anyone doesn't want to read that part. 
> 
> Thanks to starling83 and Lady Xana for betaing!  
~Animagus

The fire alarm finally turns off when her doorbell rings, and she hustles over to open it for Sara, the smell of burnt chicken wafting through her house. Sara smiles and holds up a bottle of wine before registering the smell and raising her eyebrows.

She takes the wine bottle and moves toward the kitchen to open it and then pours two glasses. “I-- um, may have burned dinner,” Ava says to the floor with pink cheeks. The bruising around her nose has faded to an almost unnoticeable darker shade of her skin tone. 

Sara’s eyes roam over the rest of the tall blonde’s figure, noting the neat red sweater and dark jeans. She smiles in amusement and smoothes Ava’s hair with one hand while starting a call with her other. “Well, that’s okay. We can order take-out instead!” The phone rings twice before someone picks up and after the greeting, Sara begins to speak in fluent… something. Ava isn’t sure what it is, but she silently watches as Sara speaks in a foreign language very quickly. Sara moves her hands while she speaks as if the other person on the line can see. The added effects give the tall blonde a chance to take in the sight of Sara in her black moto jacket with a simple white shirt underneath and black jeans with slight tears across the thighs and knees, adding to her already edgy vibe.

When Sara hangs up, Ava can hardly contain herself. “Okay, what language were you just speaking and, do you,” she pauses briefly in astonishment,”do you have that restaurant on speed dial?” She grabs Sara’s arm and starts steering her towards the couch.

Sara follows easily and plops herself down on the couch, settling in to explain, “It was Mandarin. Learned it from a friend overseas. And yeah, I learned to cook from my dad, who, well... he can’t cook. So I order take-out pretty often.” 

Ava sits across from her on the same couch and hands her one of the wine glasses before sipping on her own. “Well, that makes two of us. Looks like we’ll be eating a lot of take-out together in the near future,” she jokes, and Sara chuckles before draining her glass (she really shouldn’t have drank that wine so quickly). Ava leans into her, setting her nearly full glass down on the table and wrapping her arms around Sara, kissing her forehead.

“Want to just lay back and relax for a little bit, just until the food comes?”

Instead of replying, Sara simply burrows her face into her chest and grunts softly. Ava lays down on the couch, holding Sara securely in her arms and tracing tentative patterns randomly across her back. Once she reaches her lower back, she hesitates to make sure everything is alright, but when Sara hums in contentment, she continues tracing her way down Sara’s back.

Sara completely relaxes into her, breathing deeply, and sneaks her hand under Ava’s shirt, lightly grazing her sides, causing Ava to release a blissful sigh. She feels Sara smile into her chest and sink into her. Eventually, she reaches Sara’s bottom and starts making her way back up, lazily slipping her hand under the hem of Sara’s shirt.

For a moment, she registers a rough texture on Sara’s skin, but she doesn’t have time to think about it. The relaxing atmosphere is abruptly shattered with a pained gasp. Sara quickly pulls away and swings her legs off the couch, doubling over in pain.

“Sara?” She doesn’t respond. When Ava reaches out, the short blonde flinches away violently. Ava’s stomach twists, but she withdraws her hand. The tall blonde has never seen her react like this, but she knows that something she did hurt Sara. A sickening feeling settles over her at the thought. “Sara, you’re scaring me. Please talk to me?”

  
“You can’t touch me there.” Her voice is terse, and she is looking down at the floor with her fists clenched, breathing heavily. Her face is cloaked by her hair, preventing Ava from being able to read her. The tall blonde’s heart drops, but her training quickly kicks in and she shoves aside her anxiety.

“You have to give me a little more than that, babe. Are you- are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?” She is trying very hard to avoid any movement because she doesn’t want Sara to flinch away from her again. She needs to be able to read Sara, so she slowly moves to kneel in front of her to get a better view of her face.

Sara scoffs. “I _ am _a doctor, and I’m fine. You just- you can’t touch me there. Ever.” She looks away, clenching her jaw, and tries to disappear into the couch.

Ava is confused, but it is clear that something happened to Sara, and that this is a very important boundary to her, so she attempts to clarify the situation. “Okay, Sara, I won’t, I promise. But can you elaborate a little bit? Where can I touch you?”

Sara finally looks at her, cheeks flushed and blinking back tears. “Everywhere between my shoulders and the tops of my thighs on my back are a hard limit. Anything else is fine, just not those spots.” Her eyes plead for Ava to understand. She doesn’t understand. Not really. All she knows for sure is that she has hurt Sara, and she never wants to do that again.

“Can you show me?” The short blonde’s eyes widen at her question. She hesitates but eventually nods. Grabbing Ava’s hand, she guides it to her chest over her heart. She drags it up to her shoulder, clasping the hand over it.

“This is yellow. Any further is red.” At Ava’s furrowing brow, she continues, “Like a stop light system. Green is go. Yellow is caution. Red is stop. Except my red is more than stop. It’s more like don’t.”

She moves the hand to the back of her neck, Ava’s pinky resting on the edge of her T-shirt.

“This is green. Move down farther and it goes to red. The key is staying above my shirt. No skin to skin contact within that area.” She guides their hands back to her left arm, letting Ava’s hand lay on bare skin.

“Arms are fine. So is most of my front.” Sara loosens her grip, letting the tall blonde move her hand away. She glides it over Sara’s chest, stopping just under her neck. Her index finger pulls down the shirt collar slightly, just enough for her finger to skim across one of the short blonde’s collar bones. She continues the teasing pattern, watching Sara’s face. Pupils dilating, the short blonde’s breathing quickens, but she remains still as a statue. Her body is shaking, anticipation barely contained. 

Ava chuckles and pulls her hand away, smirking at the groan that reaches her ears. Just as quickly as she heard it, a chirp of surprise leaves her throat as Sara’s mouth closes the distance between their lips. The tall blonde breaks away from the kiss breathless.

“Sara--_ huff-- _ as fun as that is-- _ huff-- _we need to talk about this.” A pained expression flirts over Sara’s face, but she quickly masks it. She leans into Ava, kissing across her jaw.

“Are you sure we need to _ talk _?” Her mouth is hovering right below the tall blonde’s ear, causing shivers to crawl up her spine.

Ava tries to regain control as she answers, “You’re deflecting.”

The short blonde presses her lips back onto Ava’s skin. Her breath tickles the skin, raising goosebumps. The hitch in Ava’s breathing only encourages Sara. She moves up to her ear, kissing on the outer rim, up and then back down. When she reaches the lobe, the short blonde captures it between her lips, running her tongue over it as she sucks on it. After a moment, she releases the lobe and moves back up the outer rim, slowly licking her previous trail. 

She hears another catch in Ava’s breathing when she reaches the tip of her ear. Leaning back, she gauges the tall blonde’s state. Her lips perk up as she notices the flushed look over her skin and eyes boring into her, pupils blown wide open.

“Yeah, but is it working?”

“No.” The reply is strained. Sara returns back to the spot just under Ava’s ear. Her lips move along her throat, feeling the rhythm of Ava’s pulse speeding up. When she reaches the junction between the neck and shoulder, Sara grazes her teeth across the sensitive skin. 

She mumbles against Ava’s neck, “How ‘bout now?” It takes a moment for Ava to catch her breath.

“Sara, we should really talk about this.” Sara knows she has Ava right on the edge of giving up resistance. And she is too stubborn to stop her onslaught now. Without hesitation, she climbs into Ava’s lap. Sara resumes kissing her neck, and feels the tall blonde stiffen. On a whim, she bites hard against her neck, and then she licks the sting away with her tongue.

Ava gasps when the teeth connect with her skin. The move was not expected and shatters her remaining resistance.

“Now?” Sara knows she has won. The comment is her last taunt, one last jab before her beautiful agent gives in.

Ava turns to face Sara, but the short blonde worries she might have miscalculated. She does not know what is happening in Ava’s head, a storm of emotion swirling in her eyes.

“Hey, you ok--.” Her words are cut off by Ava’s desperate kiss. Sara makes a sound of surprise but keeps going. Ava clutches the back of her head with both hands, denying her escape even if she wanted to. When they pull apart to breathe, Sara gains back her confidence.

“Bedroom?”

Ava nods. “Bedroom.” 

Within seconds, the agent is cradled in Sara’s arms and whisked away to the bedroom.

Sara flumbles with the knob but manages to get it open. The door swings back harder than intended, slamming into the wall. Both women ignore the sound, too caught up in each other’s lips to care. When her shins hit the side of the bed, Sara sets Ava on the bed and moves to straddle her hips, keeping as much contact as possible between them. The short blonde fingers the bottom of Ava’s sweater. She leans back to look into Ava’s eyes.

“Can I?”

Wordlessly, Ava nods. She leans forward as Sara tugs her sweater up and over her head. Her breath quickens as Sara’s eyes trace her skin. Ava is wearing a lacy black bra, having clearly hoped that something would happen. Stunned, Sara struggles to remember how to breathe. Her hands reflexively clench and relax, and she wants to reach out and remove the fabric, but she holds herself back. She takes a moment to just look at her, appreciating Ava’s flushed cheeks, splayed hair, and amazing abs.

Ava makes a small noise, pulling Sara’s attention back to her lips. She bites her lip and briefly hesitates before moving her hands toward her bra clasp. With a brush of fabric, the cups loosen as the bra falls forward. Its descent is hastened when the straps fall under Ava’s fingers.

Sara is frozen in place by the sight. A hand cupping her cheek startles her. Her eyes again look up into a mix of blue storm clouds.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you aren’t—“

Sara launches forward capturing Ava’s words with her lips, propelling them both deeper into the bed. She’s done waiting. She wants this. Needs this. She nips the tall blonde’s bottom lip and trails her kisses across Ava’s jaw to her ear. While her lips are busy, Sara’s hands cup the breasts in front of her, kneading them softly. Her thumbs strum over the pink peaks slowly as her mouth nibbles on Ava’s ear.

Ava’s hands reach out to Sara’s sides, fisting the cotton shirt. Her hands drift downwards and, while Sara knows Ava would likely respect her limits, fear radiates through her. Her hands shoot out to grasp Ava’s wrists and pin them to the bed.

“Stay.” Sara starts to remove her hands but hears a whine from Ava. “Stay, baby. Let me have some fun.” She winks and lands a chaste kiss on Ava’s nose. The tall blonde doesn’t move when her touch recedes.

Sara moves her mouth down leaving wet kisses in her wake and drags her hand off of Ava’s breast to make room for her mouth, swirling her tongue around the nipple. When she makes direct contact, Ava bucks and gasps. Sara moves her legs to straddle Ava’s left leg, pushing her right in between Ava’s legs against the rough fabric of her jeans. She smirks and goes farther by lightly pinching the nub in between her teeth. She continues to strum her other finger over the other peak but at a much faster pace. 

She repeats the movements as she switches to the other nub. Her attention to both make them taut and even more sensitive, if Ava’s shudders and whimpers are any indication. She stops her teasing to check on Ava’s state. The agent’s glassy gaze gives Sara all the green light she needs to keep going. She nips just under Ava’s right breast and descends across her body. 

The small blonde deftly pops open the button on Ava’s jeans and slides the zipper down. Her fingers linger on the edge of the fabric, drawing it out. She grabs both pants and panties, pulling them down Ava’s long legs. Sara places a light kiss on Ava’s inner calf after she scatters the clothing. 

Ava’s breathing quickens, fists curling tightly into the sheets below her. Sara’s breath lingers on her thigh, raising goosebumps on her flesh. 

Ava yelps as she feels a hot tongue run across her folds, earning her a chuckle from Sara. A strong arm presses against her hips to stop any more movement. Feather-light kisses land on her thigh as Sara moves closer to her folds again. Ava jumps when they finally meet her core, but the movement is subdued by Sara’s arm. The short blonde pulls back to run the fingers of her left hand along the wetness. 

Icy fire spreads up her arm from her fingertips. She sucks in a breath while eyeing Ava, praying she didn’t hear it. _ ‘No, this is not going to ruin it. Not this time.’ _ She attempts to open and close her fist, remembering the recent fight. The result doesn’t change.

She shifts her body to hold Ava down with her left hand instead, freeing up her right. She resumes her plan of action, thankful that the tall blonde didn’t notice her intake of breath. Her fingers graze Ava’s opening, coating her finger. She slides her index finger in carefully while watching the tall blonde’s reaction. She hesitantly delves deeper, only stopping when her hand can go no further. Slowly, she begins moving in and out, gaining speed every third or fourth thrust. Ava begins to relax, allowing Sara more access. The short blonde skims her thumb against Ava’s clit with every stroke.

Ava moans as Sara’s finger moves deeper. “More.”

Sara meets her eyes in surprise. “Are you sure?” Ava nods, breathing deeply in anticipation. 

Sara slides in the second finger. She goes slower since Ava’s walls are tightening around her fingers, adjusting to the new size. When the tall blonde’s body relaxes into the bed, Sara pulls her fingers out and thrusts them back in. Ava’s moans fill the room, urging Sara’s movements. 

Sara moves faster, and she starts curling her fingers to rub against the tall blonde’s inner wall. Between the friction and teasing on her clit, Ava is close to climax. Sara can feel the walls clenching around her and focuses on circling Ava’s clit with more speed. 

Ava’s hands find Sara’s hair and cling to it. Her orgasm hits, shattering her senses and making her moan. Her whole body is wired, every small twitch causing her sweet pain and pleasure. As her body comes down from its high, she drags in gulps of air. She wonders if she stopped breathing. Just when she thinks it’s over, Sara surprises her by teasing her clit again.

The slight stimulus is too much for her sensitivity and shoots her into another orgasm. This one wrecks her, nerves already twitching from the previous one. Her head thrashes with every wave of pleasure, drawing out her moans. She disentangles her fingers from Sara’s hair, returning feeling to them. Sara doesn’t remove her fingers, so Ava grabs her hand. She removes them and pulls Sara up to lay on top of her.

“No more. Can’t take it.” 

Sara smirks. “Did you turn into a lightweight on me?” She rubs her nose against Ava’s cheek. She relaxes her shoulders when she hears the evitable yawn coming from those pink lips swollen from their kisses. 

Ava tries to cover up the yawn with her hand. “It’s been a little while.” Sara continues to stare at her. “Okay, maybe a long while. It’s not like Chicago waits for me to get laid to have problems.” The short blonde snorts and buries her face in Ava’s neck.

“I’m pretty sure the Bureau is still functioning while you recover, agent.” She snickers when a pair of fingers dig into her side for the remark.

“Very funny, dork.” Ava yawns again. She blinks her eyes hard to stay awake. Sara rolls off of her, curling into Ava’s side to lay her head on the tall blonde’s heart. 

“I’m hilarious. Don’t forget it.” Sara feels the rumble of Ava’s chest as she chuckles. “Go to sleep, Aves.” She leans up to place a kiss on the sleepy woman’s cheek.

“Mmm, good night, Sara.”

“Good night, Aves.” Sara lays there listening to Ava’s breaths as they even out. She thinks about how lucky she is to be able to wrap this beauty in her arms. Not so long ago she thought she’d never see her, or anyone, again. Her thoughts fade with every thump of Ava’s heartbeat, slowly lulling her to sleep.

\-----------

Sara wakes up early the next morning. Her body feels better than it has in months. Blinking at the ceiling, she tries to think back to her nightmare from last night, only to realize for the first time since being home that she didn’t have one. Grinning, she lays there for a while watching Ava sleep in her relaxed state. She eventually gets up when her hunger becomes too strong to ignore. Not wanting to go through Ava’s cabinets and a well-established lack of cooking skills cause Sara to leave the apartment in search of food. She walks the extra ten minutes to swing by Lo Min, the Chinese place they were supposed to eat from (and pay for) last night. She talks to the owners and pays them for last night’s take-out.

When she finishes up, Sara stops at a coffee shop a few blocks from Ava’s place. She gets them each a coffee, donuts, and croissants, speeding off back to the apartment. Just as she gets everything settled on the coffee table and peeks into the bedroom, she hears Ava stir.

She makes her way to the edge of the bed next to the tall blonde and reaches out to brush away a few wiley hairs that are concealing Ava’s dark orbs. “Hey beautiful, did you sleep well?”

Ava grunts and rolls her head into the pillow. After a few seconds, she rolls back over and looks up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Would’ve been perfect if you had been in bed with me when I woke up.” Sara kicks off her shoes and lays down next to her.

“Better?”

“Much.” Ava snakes her arm around Sara, pulling her close.

Ava suddenly meets her eyes, panic evident in her features. “The food!”

Sara chuckles and caresses her cheek. “It’s fine, Ava. I took care of it.” She smiles when Ava relaxes. “I got you coffee and breakfast.” The tall blonde’s eyebrows perk up. 

“Coffee? And breakfast? What did I do to deserve that?” Ava frowns. “You’ve done all of this for me. And last night I got too tired…” Sara leans in to kiss away her frown.

“Don’t worry about it. I was completely content with last night. I got to be with you and make you feel good.” She grabs one of Ava’s hands to pull her out of bed toward the door. “Now let me bask in the feeling while I provide for my girlfriend.” Her shoulders tense as her words replay in her head.

“Girlfriend?” She turns around to stare into the tall blonde’s questioning eyes.

Sara shrugs in an attempt to downplay it. “Well yeah, I mean, why not? I mean I’m not gonna see anyone else and I like making you happy and seeing you so…”

Ava steps closer to the fumbling blonde. “I like making you happy too. And no, I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either.” She leans in to Sara’s ear. “I like being your girlfriend.” The word sends shivers down Sara’s spine, but her brain short-circuits from all of her happiness. She kisses Ava in response and takes a minute to enjoy the feeling of their lips touching.

When they break the kiss, Ava notices her duvet on the ground. She is pretty sure it was on the bed when they fell asleep last night. “Hey, do you remember how that got there?” She turns her head to face Sara, who is frowning and fidgeting.

“I got hot last night, so I pushed it off the bed.”

Ava doesn’t look convinced. She knows Sara is prone to getting cold from all of their game nights together. The shorter blonde would end up wearing a jacket or wrapping up in a blanket if Ava didn’t change the temperature before her arrival. She is about to comment on that fact, but something in her gut tells her to leave it. Ava leans in to give Sara another kiss, hoping to bring them back to their earlier comfortable atmosphere.

“Come on, Aves. Your coffee’s getting cold.” Sara grins as she pulls her girlfriend along behind her, mentally squealing at how right that title sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that chapter was interesting to write. We both wrote a half for chapter and merged them later. This one chapter is the turning point in the story. We've given y'all all the fluff and soft we can manage without dragging the angst out. So sorry to say the next few chapters are a lot more angst and suspense. Hope you enjoyed reading! Please stick around for the next update which should be next Monday! Have a great week! ~ Animagus


	10. Lips That Stain Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara and Ava have been together for a few weeks now. How's it looking for the two love birds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the delay! Some stuff got switched around, so this chapter will actually have fluff in it. Hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> No warnings for this chapter
> 
> Thanks to starling83 and Lady Xana for betaing!  
Thank you Ry for your support:)  
~Animagus

Bright light piercing through the blinds lands on Ava’s face, the intensity stirring her awake. With a groan, she throws one arm over her face and reaches out with the other searching for Sara’s warmth just like she has done for the last month. Her hand is met with cold empty sheets. She tilts her head to view the space, hoping her touch was wrong. She tries to keep the frown off her face. Leaning over to the bedside table, the tall blonde grabs her phone to search for any missed messages. There are none.

‘Maybe she went to get breakfast?’ Ava sighs, knowing that the temperature of the bed means Sara has been gone for hours. She sucks in a quick breath as she unwraps her cocoon of blankets, the warmth dissipating. Setting her feet on the floor while she stretches, Ava ignores the messy floor. Most of the clothing left across the floor is only hers instead of the mixed chaos that she has learned to adore.

Her feet pad across the room as she walks to the kitchen. The familiar smell of brewing coffee is absent, keys missing from where they are usually casually flung on the side table near the door. She turns on the coffee maker and stares a hole into it until the coffee is done.

Sipping her drink feels a little less flavorful than when Sara makes it. She pours some sugar into the mug, a very rare occurrence, and moves back to her room. She tries to savor the first cup while laying out her clothes for the day. Satisfied with her choices, she moves to her bathroom after checking her phone again for a missed message, sighing when there are none to be read.

She started back at work earlier in the week. Ava is confined to light desk work, much to her dismay. This makes her an easy target for sympathetic coworkers to dote on her, like Gary. ‘I swear if he tries to cool off my coffee by blowing on it again…’

Ava flicks on the bathroom light, eyes trailing the water marks around the sink. ‘She must have been rushing.’ Her brows narrow at the thought, her blue-gray eyes staring back at her in the mirror. Her eyes widen, jaw going slack. A message has been scrawled across the pane in lipstick. The same bright shade of matte red that she wore once in front of Sara. It had been left sitting in the right hand corner of the counter. The one that Sara complemented so much that they missed their dinner reservation two nights ago because they got a little too busy to care. 

Her gaze absorbs the words in front of her, following the dips and loops in the lettering. A flutter in her chest spreads throughout her body, making up for all the cold she felt this morning with the shockingly sweet message.

_ Hey babe! Sorry, emergency page! Promise I’ll make it up to you! Maybe I’ll only use my lips;) _

The bottom of the message is punctuated with a perfect kiss mark in the same shade. Ava chuckles as blush rises on her face. The temperature increases when the thought of Sara wearing her lipstick pops into her head. Shaking it away, she attempts to get ready for her day, succeeding for the most part. She misses one button on her collared shirt which forces her to redo all of them. The flustered state puts her in a flirty mood, missing the quick-witted blonde and her laugh.

She grabs her phone and sends a text to her girlfriend.

_ Ava: Just your lips, huh? _

She sees the moving dots pop up.

_ Sara: On ur body? Anytime. _

After a few seconds, another reply comes over.

_ Sara: Srry 4 not txtn. I ddnt want 2 wake u, light weight ;) _

Ava rolls her eyes and grins at her cheekiness. Any kind of sound could wake Ava, the agent was trained to recognize slight sounds like phones buzzing. Her high alert only dulled around Sara when there is a less likelihood of something dangerous occurring. The exception being the black and blue she got from the bar fight a few weeks ago when she was supposed to be relaxing with said girlfriend.

_ Ava: Light weight? Who would be able to sleep with your snoring? _

She snickers at the reply.

_ Sara: Snoring??? Idk wat u r referring 2.  _

The tall blonde bites her lip to fight the giggles rising up.

_ Sara: Gtg babe. Code Blue in PIT. XOXO _

_ Ava: Wonderful day to save lives. Go be amazing! XOXO _

Shoving her phone in her back pocket, Ava rushes to get her gear and bolts out the door. The clock on her phone says that her flirtatious texting with her girlfriend has made her potentially 12 minutes late. ‘I’ll take a late day with her over any early day without.’ She shakes her head at the thought. ‘Something I never thought would ever happen.’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed seeing some more of Ava in this one. Isn't Sara sweet?? :D  
Updates will probably be less frequent with the upcoming holidays. The next post might be in two weeks. Have an awesome time till then! Angst will be in the next chapter!
> 
> ~Animagus


	11. “Bitch” Is A Clinical Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been going well for the love birds. But somethings are changing, and some people are adverse to change. Sara will have to face reality that she has been avoiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait! The chapters will probably not be as frequent for a while. Hope you enjoy reading this chapter!
> 
> Warnings: Drug addiction, PTSD mentions, Injury mentions
> 
> Thanks to starling83 and Lady Xana for betaing!  
~Animagus

Dr. Gideon sits in her office reviewing her notes. It has been a while since Sara came in for a session. She was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t get the usual call from Sara saying she couldn’t make it, and immediately went to brush up on the details of her file while she waited. It’s 10 minutes after the appointment time was scheduled, and she begins to wonder if Sara has simply forgotten to cancel this time when the door to her office suddenly creaks open.

Sara hesitantly steps into the office, and Gideon takes a moment to assess her patient’s appearance as the blonde carefully scans the room and gets situated on the leather couch across from her. She is wearing her Army fatigues, a black shirt, and a black moto jacket with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. A black compression sleeve is peeking out from the jacket sleeve of her injured hand, and she angles her body towards the exit before relaxing properly. She looks good for someone who dodged her last four therapy sessions.

“Hey, Gideon, long time no see.” She makes a finger gun gesture with her hands and guiltily clears her throat under Gideon’s disappointed stare.

After a few seconds of watching her squirm in discomfort, Gideon decides to give her an out. “You seem happier, have you been taking the Prozac I prescribed you?” Sara visibly exhales, grateful for the change of topic. She really had meant to come see her, but every time a session loomed she chickened out and canceled.

“Yeah, I’m feeling okay most days. Zari says I don’t isolate myself or freak out as often, either. Oh, and that I’m less paranoid.”

Gideon’s face manages to stay quite neutral despite her surprise. Sara seems almost too okay. “That’s very good, so long as you got there in a healthy way. Although it sounds like your anxiety is still an issue. I noticed you angled your body towards the exit when you entered the room.” Sara freezes with her mouth open for a few seconds before mustering a response.

“Yeah, well, habits,” she shrugs nonchalantly, attempting to deflect from the topic. 

“Yes, well, we’ll address those “habits” another day. But for today, I’d like to focus on your environment. The last time I saw you, you were about to move in with Zari. That’s quite the transition, how is that working out for you?”

“Great, actually. Z is a sarcastic asshole but she’s surprisingly supportive. And she doesn’t smother me like Laurel did, so I can actually talk to her.”

She is pleasantly surprised that Sara has managed to establish a support system, even if it is just one person, on her own. “In our first session, you refused to let anyone help you and spent the entire 50 minutes staring at me. You were, what us therapists call-”

“A bitch?” 

Gideon tries to suppress a smile at the blonde’s interruption.

“But it seems like you simply needed some time to cool down. You’ve come a long way on your own terms. I hope you realize that this is a huge step.” 

She hopes that her patient would at least acknowledge her progress, but instead she immediately plays it off. “Yeah well, Z is a bitch too. She tricked me into going to my last PT appointment two months ago.” Sara’s voice reveals how irritating the action was to her, but Gideon raises her eyebrows, knowing the session was about to get heavier in a few moments.

“You weren’t going to go on your own? It seems you have a habit of canceling on people who are trying to help you. I understand why you would avoid therapy, although I don’t condone it. But why PT, especially your last appointment?” 

“It-uh… it was about scar care. The scars on my back I mean. He wanted to show me how to massage my back to break down the scar tissue. Z’s been doing it.” She sees Sara’s brows crease, her lips press together, and knees bouncing. When the blonde glances at the exit and then towards the clock, Gideon frowns. They still have plenty of time, so she decides to press on. 

“Most people don’t complain about getting free massages.” She peers at Sara expectantly, who gives her a sigh in response.

“Most people don’t find them painful.” She pauses and closes her eyes before continuing, “I- Not only is it physically excruciating, but it also reminds me of how I got them. It puts me on edge the whole day and even when it's over I feel like crap. I-...It’s really taxing, G. I can barely keep myself from spiraling.” Gideon waits patiently for the veteran to make eye contact with her.

“I’ll text you the link to a calming technique that you can use to get through it, but right now I have a really important question for you.” She pauses and watches the blonde run her hand through her hair before acknowledging that her doctor spoke. “This spiraling feeling, have you felt it in other scenarios?”

She nods slowly before admitting, “Yeah. A few times now, but it’s pretty random.”

Gideon watches Sara look towards the clock again to calculate the remaining time before continuing. “These episodes may seem random, but in reality there is usually a trigger. Most people are unaware of their triggers, which can mean their episodes are triggered subconsciously. They don’t get the chance to take steps to prevent an episode. Take a brief moment and close your eyes. Think about what you’ve been through, and what you might find potentially upsetting because of your experiences.” She pauses and sits back, and Sara mirrors her actions.

The blonde fidgets with her hands. When she opens her eyes again, they appear slightly distant, but otherwise calm. Sara keeps her gaze on the clock and waits a few minutes to think. When she swallows uncomfortably, Gideon decides to jump into it. “Sara?” The woman snaps her gaze towards her, eyes wide but attentive.

Gideon gets up and moves towards her desk, retrieving a small journal and handing it to Sara.

“This is for you. I don’t expect you to do it now if you don’t want to, but I’d like you to record what came to mind. After you have an episode and are calm, I want you to revisit this list and attempt to identify what caused the trigger. Then, I want you to re-write it into one of three lists: Uncomfortable, Serious, or Severe. Identifying and organizing your triggers by impact will help you understand how to navigate potentially upsetting scenarios in the future.”

When she appears overwhelmed, Gideon turns around to find a notepad and begins writing the instructions down.

“I need a whole journal for a few lists?”

Gideon glances up from her notepad and smiles kindly. “You have a roommate. What if she came across the lists and read it, not knowing that it was private? The journal is to protect your boundaries. Plus, journals are a powerful tool, and there are other things you can do with it. For example, many find it helpful to record their nightmares before they forget so that they can process them later. But we can talk about such exercises next session since we’re starting to run short of time. I need to talk to you about where you are with your hand. I noticed you’re wearing a compression sleeve. Are you still experiencing pain?”

She tears off the instructions and hands them to Sara just in time to see the blonde shove her hand into her jacket pocket. “Yeah, no, yeah, everything is great. The pain is more manageable for sure. I’ve even performed surgery. The compression sleeve is for...ell, uh- I used my hand more than I normally would last night...not last night like night time. Just, for work. My work. At the hospital.” 

Sara is blushing profusely, and while Gideon hasn’t known her for very long, it seems out of character. But they are running short on time, so she mercifully cuts in. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Given that you’ve missed our last sessions I’ve been unable to tell you that your codeine prescription needs to be terminated soon, but it seems the pain management should no longer be an issue.”

Sara’s eyes widen. “But- When the pain gets really bad it spasms. I can’t have that, I’m a surgeon, I could hurt someone!”

“Relax, okay? I’m not going to throw you into the deep end on this, I promise. I’m prescribing you cyclobenzaprine and a lidocaine solution to help. The lidocaine is great for everyday pain, and you can use the cyclobenzaprine before work to prevent any spasms.”

She notices that the blonde’s body tenses up, but chalks it up to the medicine transition. She knows that Sara will get through this switch pretty quickly. As a surgeon, she should already know on some level that she can’t stay on the codeine forever. Even taking the opioid responsibly can result in withdrawal symptoms if you take it long enough. 

“You know you’re ready, Sara. And you went to medical school, so I know you understand why I’m doing this. You need to let go of the crutch.”

She speaks firmly but gently, and sure enough, Sara visibly calms down before saying goodbye and leaving for work.

\--------

Sara is barely holding herself together. She had hidden her anxiety from Gideon before getting the hell out of there. Five hours into her shift, her stomach clenches at the thought of her pain returning. Her anxieties are amplified because she took her last codeine early that morning. She took it with the expectation that Gideon would write her a prescription for more.

So here she is, 12 hours later, fighting the first symptoms of withdrawal. Yes, she finished her prescription that morning, but she was also out of her extra stash from Tommy. Everyone knew that if someone needed a prescription or drug of any kind, they could go to Tommy Merlyn. He supposedly has connections to the local gangs or mob to get his stash for dealing. It is rumored that sometimes he would help make sure their stashes were legit, or his stash came from meticulously hand-picked items that the hospital wouldn’t notice missing from the supply closets. As an anesthesiologist, Tommy goes undetected when items come up missing.

Sara, having known him for many years, knows how correct those rumors are. He obviously never stole enough to get noticed, and he didn’t take any of the meds for himself. Those are the main reasons that people like Sara don’t turn him in. Besides, she needs his product. He is in surgery all morning with Dr. Luthor, so she tries to be patient until he is free. 

She has paced the hall near the O.R. doors three times before she takes the nurse’s stares as encouragement to sit down. Her knee bounces up and down while her hand begins to ache, but her mind is stuck on a loop thinking about her conversation with Gideon.

The doors fly open wide as a wave of doctors exit the O.R. area. Tommy is halfway down the line, his surprise evident when he spots Sara. She grabs his hand with her good one and leads him to the nearest supply room, dragging him inside quickly. Whirling around, she crosses her arms to make herself seem in control.

“I need more.” Tommy’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. “I just gave you some last week. It should’ve lasted longer than this. Are you giving it out?” His eyes narrow with suspicion. 

“No, I— I just needed it more than I realized.” She avoids making direct contact with his gaze, choosing to study the tile patterns instead.

“Sara…” She looks up at him. “This is too much. I thought you were using it to take the edge off the pain a little. Not to supplement a full-on addiction!” 

Sara scoffs. “I’m not addicted! I just wasn’t ready to be out. I just need some more to tide me over until I’m ready.” Tommy’s silence makes her think he might help because he wouldn’t want her to be in pain. They’ve been friends for years, almost as long as he’s known Laurel and Oliver.

“No more, Sara.” His words startle her. 

“What do you mean, no?” Her voice drops to a dangerous level. 

He straightens up to tower over her. “No more. This has gone too far. If Oliver knew… if Laurel… Shit, Sara! This can’t keep happening.” Tommy grabs his head and shakes it hard. “I can’t live with myself if I help you get addicted even more or worse, if you died. I would lose everything.” His eyes have a haunted look in them as if he’s experienced similar pain before. He raises his head and meets her eyes. “No more. Don’t ask me again.” He turns and leaves the room.

Sara stands there in shock, trying to process how her only two sources have dissolved. She can’t get it for herself because that would be a red flag. The hospital is the worst place for her to be in this state. The worse her symptoms got, the more tempted she would be to steal codeine. She could lose her job. Not to mention how much it would suck if her coworkers knew what she was going through. She heads to Rip’s office, hoping to catch him. They all know he hides out in there during lunch to avoid any pestering doctors or pharmacy reps.

As soon as she knocks, Rip tells her to come in. He smiles and asks her to take a seat, but she chooses to stand. “Rip, I need the rest of the day off to take care of some things.” 

He hesitates, but eventually he can sense something else is going on. “Alright, Dr. Tomaz should be able to handle everything on her own today.” Sara nods and turns to leave. “Sara?” She stops to look at him. “Whatever is going on, take care of it and don’t bring it back with you.” Blood rushes to her face and she looks down at the white tile floors, upset that Rip had picked up on her struggling. She gives him a small nod and walks out the door.

When she is out of view, Sara sprints down the hall to the elevators. She changes in the attending’s lounge and heads out of the hospital. Instead of heading home, she heads to her one sanctuary that has helped her out through all of life’s madness.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have a deeper look into Sara's coping. I don’t know when the next chapter will be updated. There will likely be at least one before the end of the year. If there isn't an update before the holidays, hope everyone has a good holiday!!!  
~Animagus


	12. I Should’ve Worn My Running Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava confronts Sara about where she has been all day. Sara is holding on by a thread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the delay in posting. Been a very busy few months! Here's a new chapter! The next one might be a while again. Time for some angst! Sorry not sorry, had to. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Trauma flashbacks, Lovers quarrel
> 
> Special thanks to starling83 and LadyXana for betaing!

Ava is beside herself. The bomb threat was called in to local police and of course the FBI heard about it. Chicago General went under lock down one hour ago. As soon as she found out, Ava called Sara and every other person she knew in that building. No one has seen her since this morning, and Sara isn’t picking up her phone.

“This is Sara Lance, you know what to do.” She doesn’t know what to do. Quite frankly, she is freaking the hell out. She hangs up her phone for the eighth time. She has already left three messages and sent twenty text messages. Zari tried to reassure her that Sara is smart and probably got locked in a dead zone area of the hospital. The only thing that helps calm Ava is the dark-haired woman’s promise to contact her as soon as she finds Sara.

She paces her office, tapping her phone on her hip. After about thirty minutes, the bomb threat has been cleared from the building. Zari calls her within minutes.

“Ava, she isn’t here.” Ava’s body locks into place, her frantic thoughts grinding to a halt. “What do you mean? She had work all day!” 

Zari sighs through the phone. “I ran into Rip. She asked for the rest of the day off right before the lock-down. She isn’t here.” She pauses. “I know she wouldn’t go home. Not if she is feeling things enough to go home early.” 

She doesn’t know what Zari meant by “feeling things enough”, but she can’t stop to unpack that. “Where is she, Zari?” Ava is getting desperate to know where her girlfriend has been all this time. 

Zari sighs louder this time. ‘Sara is going to kill me for this,’ she thinks to herself before tacking on, “She’s probably at the Waverider.”

Relief floods Ava. The Waverider is only a few blocks away, so she immediately starts walking towards it. But as the tall blonde walks down the street at a brisk, unrelenting pace, her relief subsides. Fear and anger take over. Sara ditched her work as the Head of Trauma Surgery at a Level 1 Trauma Center, and for what? Because she was “feeling things”, as Zari put it? And how the hell did she not get Ava’s messages? She has been trying to reach Sara for nearly an hour, worried she was in danger, and she was at a dive bar the whole time? Bullshit.

She stops outside the Waverider. When she enters, no one is behind the counter to greet her. The unusualness of it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ava, but she angrily stomps past the bar towards the door marked ‘Employees Only’. Since Sara wasn’t in the bar, she is betting her girlfriend is back there. She pushes it open as she hears Leo yell for her in the background. Her heels echo down the stairs as if they are counting down her moments before she unleashes her pent-up emotions on Sara.

Her feet stop their stride outside of the door that is crudely marked ‘Gym’. Someone must have carved it out with a knife and burned the area around it. She huffs out a breath and closes her eyes to grab onto a semblance of control. It won’t help if her emotions are swirling when she finds Sara.

After getting her breathing under control, she turns the knob and steps into the room. The walls are throbbing with heavy bass to match the intensity of the female fighter in front of her. Ava analyzes her, trying to process the extensive scarring that litters the small form. Mind still racing, she realizes she recognizes the birthmark on her right arm. She covers her mouth to silence a gasp but fails to capture it in time. Sara immediately jumps away from Mick, quickly tugging on her shirt, before turning to Ava. Sara’s bright blue eyes lock on hers, shock and fear laced in them.

The vulnerable expression only lasts for a few seconds before her expression hardens, and she expels a harsh breath. “What the fuck are you doing here, Ava?” 

“I-I was worried about you, babe. I needed to check up on you,” she says softly as she runs her hand through her hair. 

A flash of rage falls over Sara. She is tired of everyone smothering her. “So what? You think I can’t take care of myself? Is that it, Ava? You think I’m irresponsible and impulsive? You think I’m fucking weak!” She is breathing heavily now, face reddening as her blood pressure spikes. 

Ava holds out her hands placatingly. “No, baby, I don’t think any of those things, I promise. Why are you yelling? Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine!” Her voice increases in volume until it becomes an unmistakable shout, and Ava flinches. Before she can feel bad about it, she continues. “Nothing is going on with me that concerns you, and I’m tired of people telling me I’m not okay.”

Ava takes a step towards her, trying to ignore the bristling feeling caused by Sara’s behavior. “Well, clearly you’re not _ fucking _okay, Sara. I’m not allowed to touch you, you refuse to sleep with anything more than a sheet, you’re moody as hell, and your hand looks like it was mangled by a damn lion, and you refuse to tell me anything about your tours in Afghanistan!” 

Sara flinches away from Ava, her body flooding with shame. Ava continues in a softer voice. “And you know what, it does concern me, because we’re in a goddamn relationship. I was worried about you all day, and you couldn’t respond to a single message because you were too busy beating up a man twice your size while you look like shit? Sara… Something is wrong with you, and I--I love you; I really need you to talk to me. Please, tell me what the hell is going on with you.” 

Ava begs for her to give her something to work with, and Sara closes her eyes as she clenches her fists tightly, taking a breath. Ava thinks that maybe her girlfriend will calm down and give her the answers she deserves, but instead when she opens her eyes, there is nothing but cold rage. 

In a dangerously low voice, she replies, “Maybe I don’t want to talk to you because I don’t even fucking love you, did you ever think about that?” Her reply is meant to hurt Ava so badly that she will leave her the hell alone before she breaks down. She knows it is just a matter of time. Ever since Ava spotted her back, the scars have begun to ache and throb, and her body gets more on edge by the second.

But Ava is stubborn and in love, so she persists. “I don’t believe that. You don’t believe that! Please talk to me,” she pleads.

Sara’s vision starts going dark, her stomach twisting violently, so she snaps. “I’m fucking broken, and you can’t fix me! This relationship was going nowhere from the fucking start. You were just a toy to fuck and pass the time with. We’re done.”

Ava is on the verge of tears, but Sara cannot deal with that. Not right now. She blasts past Ava, checking her shoulder, before sprinting up the stars and out of the bar. It's as if reality has shifted a little bit to the left, as if her body moves of its own accord whilst her mind spirals. She cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot speak; but she can run. So she runs as if her life depends on it, breath quickening as panic overtakes her, desperately sucking in the cold night air. Her mind drags her into her past, shoving glimpses, tidbits, and flashes of her past into her present. 

_ Harsh sunlight beating down on her, blinding after being kept in the dark for so long. _

Her name being called from desperate lips, and the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the cement.

_ The brutal stretch of her limbs as she is secured to the lashing post, rope digging into her wrists, shoulders aching. _

Her muscles deliciously burning from her sprint, legs like lead and lungs heaving with abandon.

_ The violent, sickening sound of leather meeting flesh, pain blooming at impact and spreading like fire. _

A loud, desperate gasp, the flood of cold air doing nothing to assuage her burning lungs.

_ Her blood slowly trickling downward, throat raw from screaming through the pain criss-crossing her back like some sick mosaic. _

A thud, then a stinging throb in her hands and knees, rocks embedding themselves in her hands and knees. The fall stuns her back into reality just in time to feel acid crawling steadily up her throat, forcing her to dry heave onto the cement. She is fucking exhausted, but finally, _ finally, _ her mind has stopped replaying her nightmares. As her breathing is forced to slow and oxygen returns feeling to her limbs, her racing mind and aching body are subdued by the pleasant buzz of endorphins from her run. 

She shakily rises to stand up on her feet and sags against the nearest building, tears forming in her eyes as she looks up to gain her bearings. The broken neon sign of her second favorite dive bar, The Rogue Beaver, is right in front of her_ . _ The bar is nothing more than a hole in the wall, but it was an anonymous escape; nobody asked questions, the alcohol was never watered down, and the bartender didn’t care enough to cut you off. It was just what she needed. To take the edge off the pain in her muscles, the throbbing in her wrist, the screaming of her mind, and the sharp agonizing phantom pain along her back. To forget her past, and hopefully even the present. To just stop thinking, stop feeling, stop _ hurting. _

‘Just for tonight,’ she thinks, and she enters the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! It definitely is a darker chapter, but this story wasn't meant to be all fluff because that's not how the real world works as much as we want it to. The story will get better promise! Thank you for reading! Please leave comments, questions, or predictions if you feel inclined!  
PS- Totally stoked for Legends returning!!!


	13. And To Think It Started With A Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spiral has begun. The damage is done. But the night is still young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry it's been a while. The last chapter was so intense that it is hard to follow up after that. But I think this will get the ball rolling again. I will be trying to do more chapter updates than I have been in the last few months, so please bare with me.
> 
> Warning: Mention of bar fight, emotional turmoil, and alcohol
> 
> Thanks to LadyXana for betaing! And a wonderful thank you to my beautiful girlfriend who has encouraged me to write and keep trying when I haven't felt like it. Seriously, I don’t think I could write anymore of this without her.
> 
> But enough sap, hope you enjoy reading this new chapter update!  
~Animagus

Ava stands there stunned. Warm tears run down her face, following the tracks left from the first wave. She replays the fight in her head. Sara fled so quickly, too fast for Ava to react other than to say her name.

She clutches her chest, feeling for the cavity she expects to be there. Her heart hurts like it’s been ripped out and flung away. She inhales a shuttering breath.

“You.”

Ava turns to the sound and notices Mick staring at her. The vein in his neck is protruding as his face reddens. He shakes his fist at her.

“She was fine. She was doing better! Then you- you have to come along and fuck it up.” He takes a step closer. “She isn’t some doll you can come in here and fix up. She is a person!”

His shoulders shake with every breath. He clenches his jaw and walks to retrieve his shirt and yanks it on.

“Go home, blondie. You’ve done enough” Mick says gruffly. He doesn’t even turn around when he hears the door slam.

Ava storms out of the room. As she exits the stairs, she bumps into Leonard. 

“Woah, where do you think you’re off to?”

“Just leave me alone.” Ava moves toward the door, but Leonard catches her arm.

“You need to let her cool off. She has demons, you know that. It takes time for her to process things.” 

She shrugs her arm out of his grip. “I don’t know what there is to process. She left, not me.”

Leonard’s eyes soften. “She doesn’t know how to handle love. Not the way you have showed her. That it can be more.” He takes a step closer, and Ava fights the urge to run. Run and never look back at this place or anywhere related to Sara Lance.

He leans in close and sighs. “She may never be ready, Ava. She may never share those demons with you. But she has already shared so much and you don’t even know it. The love you have shown her- the love I have seen with my own damn eyes is what will save her. You’ve seen only a moment of her pain. Please, don’t let that one moment torch it all. Hang on to her. Help her. She needs you.”

Ava stares at him in confusion. “Why are you telling me this?” Leonard hasn’t ever been much of a talker with Ava personally. She would assume he would stick up for Sara and tell her to scram.

Leonard rubs his temple with his right hand. “Because she’s a pain in my ass but I won’t be around to make sure she continues to be a pain in my ass. I’m shipping out tomorrow. Was gonna tell her but I don’t think the news will come off well right now.” He looks up straight into Ava’s eyes. “I know you don’t want to right now, but please keep an eye on her. Her and Mick are all I got. And trust me, they cannot take care of each other. They need people to help them process the bad stuff. That’s what you do for her. You make her brighten up in a way I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing before. She needs you, Ava.”

Ava takes a step back. “I- I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m- I’m sorry.” She steps a few more feet backward and turns to hastily walk out the door.

When she makes out the door and into her car, Ava gulps in a breath. As soon as it leaves her lungs, a strangled cry follows. She tries the best she can to contain the sobs, quell the pain for a few moments more until she can get home and drown her sorrows. But there is no temporary calm. She breaks down there, in her car out front of the bar frequented by all of Sara’s friends. Ava almost chokes in a breath at the thought of running into them. That small moment of reprieve is enough for her to staunch the tears to pull away from the bar and head home to continue her emotional outburst without any potential audiences.

  
  


Meanwhile…

The bass rattles the wood top on the bar. The ice in her empty drink clinks against the glass. Sara stares at it, analyzing it. She notices a guy walk up and lean on the bar, probably intending to catch her eye. To his disappointment, she continues staring at the slowly melting ice as it chips a little more with every tremble. 

“What’s so interesting about a glass?” He yells to her over the music. She picks up a twinge of annoyance in his voice. 

Sara turns to him and puts on a charming smile. “So many things. And do you know what the best part is?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head.

“Then I’ll tell you the secret. It’s to say fuck off.” She tilts her head to make her smile turn bitter sweet and returns to facing her glass. After the night she has had, a fight wouldn’t be unwelcome. And fate is never one to disappoint with that.

She gets tugged backward by her shoulder to be met face to face with one very pissed off dude. “You need to be careful where you run that mouth.” His jaw is taut, but his eyes and breath give away the telltale signs of a drunk with the odor and glazed look. He squeezes his hand as if he is attempting to make her crumble under his grasp.

“Get your hand off of me. Now.” Her eyes bore into his, but it doesn’t ward him off.

“Or what, princess?” 

Something snaps in Sara. The bystanders can see a shift in her, going from non threatening to possibly lethal in seconds. She grabs his hand and twists it hard while spinning him so his back faces her.

Sara leans close to his ear and whispers, “Or that, princess.” She turns his arm just a fraction more to make him grunt and pushes him away from her. Instead of walking away and tending to his pride, he turns back around to charge at her. She knew a guy like this wouldn’t take lightly to having his ass handed to him in front of his friends. 

He swings a right hook at her face. She ducks and swivels away, coming up with a fast jab-cross combo to his face. Sara knows it’ll take a few rounds before he stops his advances or someone pulls him off the floor. 

What she doesn’t anticipate is his friends joining in. He managed to run at her again, and she drops down to trip him up and send him spralling. As she stands up, her body is projected forward and pinned under a heavy weight. The person on top of her weighs too much for her to flip them off. They grab her arms and hold her up against their chest while another guy stalks forward. He manages to land a few hits, one to her face and three to her ribs and shoulder. He goes to swing again, but she throws all of her body weight to the right and makes her captor lose their balance. 

Sara pops up in time to see a few patrons have stuck up for the damsel in distress and are retaliating against the group of friends. She steps forward to rejoin, but arms envelope her and drag her toward the door. She struggles and kicks against the hold, with little success. Her injuries and alcohol consumption are slowly catching up to her. She starts thrashing.

“Easy, love! It’s me!” 

Sara blinks rapidly. “John?? What are you doing here?”

“Should be asking you the same thing.” John turns toward the side of the building. “Gary! I got her. Let’s go before the blues show.”

“No, let me go!” Sara struggles against his hold.

“Sara, we gotta go. The sirens are getting closer and that group will certainly ID you if you stick around. Get in the car, love.”

“NO!” She swings her head back to knock John in the face and let his grip slip enough to get free. She bolts down the block away from the bar.

“Gary, follow in the car. I’ll catch up to her.” John takes off behind her.

“Sara!” She blocks out his voice as much as she can. Her memories of the nights events come back and drown everything around her. She hears her words echoing back to her. 

_I’m fucking broken, and you can’t fix me! This relationship was going nowhere from the fucking start. You were just a toy to fuck and pass the time with. We’re done._

Her eyes well up with tears. Ava. She was so mean to her. And Ava deserved none of her wrath.

Sara is so caught up in her thoughts she doesn’t even notice stepping in front of an oncoming car. She looks up, eyes widening. The car horn blares but it won’t slow down in time.

Sara takes a deep breath and braces for the impact.

The horn zooms by her, and she feels weightless. Her body is jostled against a semi-hard surface along with a groan. Sara looks around and takes in her surroundings. John is between her and the cold concrete.

“Bloody idiot. You almost got killed.” He grumbles. She sits up and scoots away toward the nearest wall and hugs her knees. Her brain is sluggish. Gary runs up flailing his arms and trying to help John up.

“Oh my God, John! Are you-.”

“I’m fine, Gary. Just a few scratches.” John waves him off and sits up. He glances at Sara. “Okay, love. We need to get you home.”

“No.” She stares at the ground. John and Gary exchange a look.

Gary whispers to John, “Maybe I should call Director Sharpe…” He doesn’t succeed with his subtly because Sara heard him.

“Ava?” She shoots her head up. “I want Ava here. I need Ava.” Her tears stream down her face. 

John sighs seeing her defeated nature and turns to Gary. “Get me the Director’s number. We need to get her here.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did y'all think? Feel free to leave any comments or questions! Again, I hope to be writing more for this fic soon. You can find me on Tumblr @ animagusfireblade
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please stay safe!
> 
> ~Animagus


	14. Never Truly Falls Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava has her own past, her own struggles. Pain clings to pain. Some moments stay buried deep and rise up when we least expect it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope everyone is doing well. Yes! Another chapter update! This one is more about Ava and what she is dealing with after the fight. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Gunshots and blood
> 
> Special thanks to starling83 and Lady Xana for betaing!
> 
> Thanks sunshine:)

Ava struggles to get her key in the deadbolt. She huffs and slides a few pieces of hair out of her face. Something so simple as inserting a key is chaotic with shaky hands. She manages to get the key in and open the door. Once she makes her way inside, she is greeted with a pitch black and freezing apartment. She must have left one of the windows open because the temperature dropped so low. Ava closes the door and fumbles across the room to the cracked window. 

She slams it shut, snuffing out the arctic chill. Her body needs to warm up. She hasn’t been this cold since- since...

_ She checked her watch again. The face read 3am. Their suspect was supposed to be here hours ago. The agent sighed and rubbed her eyes. Stake-outs after dark always made her less alert. She glanced at the ground below her feet, focusing her ears for any movement in the silent streets. When she heard none, she radioed to her partner. _

_ “Roy, they are a no-show. Let’s pack it up and head home.” _

_ “Copy that, Director Sharpe. Meet you by the car.” _

_ Just as Ava turned the corner of the building, a person wearing a black hoodie and dark pants walked toward the building’s side door. They were bent over to conceal their face, head whipping around to survey the area. She reached for her gun and stalked the new arrival, keeping a good distance. _

_ “Roy, change of plans. He just walked into the south side of the building. Watch the north side for any disturbance.” She tried to be as quiet as possible on the coms to avoid spooking the target. _

_ “Ten-four boss.” _

_ The stranger swung the door open and stepped inside. Ava swiftly snuck into the building behind the figure, making sure to slip in before the door closed. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the low light in the vast space. She tracked the figure heading toward the north side of the building. _

_ “Freeze! FBI!”  _

_ The suspect turned their head in the dark. Ava still didn’t have a clear visual. They took off running full speed through a maze of racks as tall as the ceiling. _

_ “Sure, don’t make this easy,” she huffed out. Taking a deep breath, she charged after them. With every twist and curve she was gaining ground. The suspect was starting to tire.  _

_ Ava was close enough to reach out and grab the hood of their jacket. As she began to do just that, the suspect swerved right. _

_ Ava was unprepared for the maneuver, her speed propelling her forward into the next hallway.  _

_ “Roy, they are heading straight for you!” Ava kept moving to follow, hoping to trap them together. The suspect made it out the north side door, right where Roy was. She saw Roy at the end of the alley as she exited the building. The suspect had stopped and stared at him. Instead of raising their hands and surrendering, they darted left, turning back into another part of the building. _

_ “What the fuck Roy?!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Don’t just stand there. We have to get him!” _

_ He made no move to follow. She squinted her eyes to get a better look. Roy was strongly built, but not a very broad guy. This figure was broader and stalkier. _

_ Ava reached for her coms. Before her hand could move, the figure raised their gun and pulled the trigger in quick succession. She pulled her own gun, returning fire.  _

_ She felt the first bullet. The power behind it felt like a freight train grazing her arm. She barely held her ground long enough to find cover. There was a dumpster to her right.  _

_ Before she could run to it, the second bullet hit her. This one pushed her to the ground, causing her to lose her breath. The dumpster was her only hope. She crawled behind it, sitting against the cold metal while trying to breathe. Her head darted around the corner to survey her assailant. _

_ The ally was empty. She could hear footsteps from the other direction. _

_ “Director Sharpe!” _

_ She turned and saw Roy running to her. When he reached her side, he shone his flashlight on her. _

_ “Oh shit…” Roy fumbled for his coms. “Central. Come in Central. Agent down. I repeat. Agent down. Two GSW’s…” _

_ Ava’s hearing started to fade in and out of focus. Pain spread across her skin, setting fire to her nerves. Breathing became harder as she glanced down at the blood pooling around her. _

_ The last thing she heard was Roy trying to keep her awake... _

Ava shakes her head to try and dislodge the memory. She hadn’t thought of that night in months. The pain she feels from Sara is unleashing things better left forgotten for the director. She moves across her kitchen to one of her cabinets. Inside is just what she desires after this nightmare of a day.

Ava’s phone rings after she just poured two fingers’ worth of single malt scotch into the shiny glass that has barely touched her tongue.

She looks at the screen and sees the photo she took of Sara. This was during one of the rare moments that they had been arguing, after which a tickle fight ensued to get the other to concede. Ava was winning and happened to get a photo to forever preserve that blissful moment. The slight blurs around the edges are proof of how hard she worked for that photo. An effort well wasted.

Her phone’s ring pulls her out of her thoughts. She debates letting it ring before she gives in and answers.

“What do you want, Sara?”

“Not Sara, Director. I’m here with our mutual blonde friend, and she’s refusing to get in the vehicle unless you are here.”

“Who is this?”

“Why, this is John Constantine, at your service.”

Ava knew the rumors that swarmed the hospital about the fine doctor and his knack for ending up in people’s beds. There were rumors about him and Sara, which made Ava’s blood boil at the thought of him touching her. But Sara wasn’t hers any longer. It seems she sought out the doctor at first chance. Ava grits her teeth at the thought.

“I’m assuming you know we had a fight since it’s obviously you calling instead of her. If you care so much, why don’t you fuck off and leave me alone.”

“Already been there, love. Leaving you alone isn’t part of her wishes I’m afraid.”

Ava is confused and silent. John’s words don’t make sense. She hears him sigh on the other side of the line.

“Look, Sara got into a bad fight. Gary and I showed up at the bar in time to pull her out.” Ava’s hand at her side starts to unclench. Hearing the state they found her in eases some tension that Ava didn’t know she was carrying. Sara is safe.

“She’s asking for you, love.”

Ava gasps and tears stream down her face. She quickly wipes them away and regains a semblance of composure. She really never could say no to that woman.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! I know we are still in the angst but I promise this is moving forward toward something better. Please feel free to leave comments! Stay safe everyone!


End file.
